


A Fate Worse than Death

by DevinBourdain



Category: Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 03:15:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 38,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevinBourdain/pseuds/DevinBourdain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A terrible fate was destined upon Hansel; not a matter of if but when. Knowing what evil lurked on the horizon wouldn't change what was about to happen; the question before Edward: would it be better for them to know the end was coming or be blissfully unaware? He hoped they would never have to learn what became of those males cursed with witches' powers. </p><p>Sequel to Red in Tooth and Claw</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Edward shifted back and forth a little to allow the rough bark of the tree he was leaning against, tend to an itch that refused to be silent. He watched as the soft orange flames flickered, casting their light on the three sleeping beings curled around the small fire. The flames were just big enough to ward off the slight chill that had griped the air, warning that fall was fast approaching and not long behind it the cold sting of winter. Out of the three trusting souls counting on the troll to keep the night watch, Edwards eyes were drawn to Hansel curled at the end of the row behind his sister.

Images of their last great battle ran through his head, particularly the moments Hansel had fought with Katja in the barn. The display of latent magic hadn't repeated itself in the jobs the group had taken since and as far as the troll knew Hansel hadn't breathed a word about what happened in the barn to Gretel. The hunter hadn't mentioned it to anyone, and the troll was certain that he believed that no one knew what happened, hell Hansel himself probably didn't completely understand what had transpired. Edward knew though; a burden he was now plagued with.

A terrible fate was destined upon the hunter; it wasn't a matter of if but rather of when. His interference would probably be unappreciated and what good would it do in the end? Hansel had made his stance on magic perfectly clear and Gretel had made her devotion to her brother equally as clear. Knowing what evil lurked on the horizon wouldn't change what was about to happen; the question before Edward was would it be better for them to know the end was coming or be blissfully unaware?

There was always a chance that Hansel's display of uncontrolled, unintentional magic had gone unnoticed in the world, a fluke mistake never to be repeated or possible again. The troll would keep his eyes peeled for any evidence that others might pick up on. There was no need to destroy Gretel's happiness unless he had to; there was always the off chance he had been mistaken. She was so relieved to have Hansel back, beside her, that Edward couldn't find it within himself to darken those moments, especially if there was a possibility it would be their last.

As he watched his friends drift in the throes of peaceful sleep, he hoped they would never have to learn what became of those males cursed with witches' magic.

* * *

"I've got her," yelled Ben bringing his rifle to bear. The bullet whizzed through the air, hissing as it sliced through it, only to embed itself in the thick bark of the tree behind the witch.

Bark rained down and Hansel gave his head a shake to dislodge the debris. "Could we not kill me in the process?" he choked out, the witch's arm impossibly tight around his chest.

Ben gave an apologetic grimace while searching for another way to free his friend from the witch. The raven witch's dark eyes darted over her opponent as her razor sharp talons dug into Hansel's neck. The hunter let out a hiss of pain; there was no need for appearances, he was on his knees at the hands of a witch they should have been able to take out in their sleep; pride left when she got the jump on them.

A low throaty growl passed through her beak like lips as her muscles tensed, arm slowly forced Hansel to his feet. Ben could see the witch was about to go in for the kill, ripping her prey's throat out with her massive jaws. A slight tremble ran through him as he tried to keep the gun steady. The window of opportunity was small, his opponent had placed the hunter in front of her making it almost impossible to hit her without taking out the man struggling in her arms.

Ben did owe Hansel for shooting him in the shoulder when he was at the mercy of Muriel, but as much confidence the younger hunter had in his skill with a rifle, he didn't feel sure enough to risk the other man's life. He stood there frozen, watching the witch's hand squeeze tighter, her mouth getting closer to snuffing out the life in her grip. Ben jumped back, his finger slipping off the trigger as both Hansel and the witch toppled forward. A flash of brown and black pulling the demon free from the stunned hunter as three figures tumbled in the dirt.

Hand still tightly wrapped around the thick branch she had used to knock the witch down, Gretel took every opening available to slam the hard wood into the soft flesh of her enemy. She was sore and bloody but she couldn't stop yet. This witch was crafty, strong and well versed in physical combat; not what they wanted to cut their teeth on after what happened in Sage.

Gretel knew it was too soon to take on a job; they were still trying to find their balance again, build reserves back. The simple jobs they had taken were mostly misunderstandings, the wrongfully accused and those that had required actual skill, had been for a skill level far beneath theirs. But Hansel had been insistent and after everything, Gretel couldn't deny him something he clearly wanted, needed. It was a decision she was going to regret, she thought as she found herself flying through the air.

Every bone in her body came alive with pain, eclipsed only by the sound of the thud as she slammed into a tree. Gretel opened her mouth to try and pull in a desperate gasp of air but her lungs refused to work. Her chest heaved in vain as her fingers curled in the dirt. Finally the spasms in her chest ceased and she pulled in a mouthful of air tainted with the taste of fresh dirt.

"Gretel look out!" shouted Hansel, concern dripping from the words.

Gretel lifted her head enough to see Ben picking himself off the ground while Hansel stumbled to get his feet under him and over to her. She was going to tell him not to worry about her, to pay attention to the witch but the dark shadow looming over her caused the words to tangle in her throat.

The witch towered above, head cocked to the side as metallic black eyes danced over the prone body. Her feather clad back arched like a cat as she threw her head back to build enough momentum to slam her beak like lips down on the human's neck.

"Gretel, no!" came the anguished cry from Hansel at seeing his sister at the mercy of the creature. Panic rose up, clawing his insides apart as he struggled to get his feet under him; he had to get up, had to move, had to save the most important person in his life. He had been failing in many things lately, spotting Gretel's secret foray into magic, the enemy that had been his right under their noses, the fact that not all witches were born to evil and now as the witch moved in for the kill, he was going to fail Gretel. The thick pit of desperation gluing him to the earth changed to a burning tingling sensation that welled up from deep within his being. It surged through Hansel, curling around his bones and down his outstretched hand that was too far away to offer any help to his sister.

Like a tidal wave, a crackle of blue light emanated from Hansel's hand spreading out across the forest and slamming into the beings engaged in battle. The force of the energy knocked Ben off his feet, sending him tumbling back to the rocky ground, his head connecting with the hard surface with a sickening thud. Gretel felt the energy flow above her but the greatest evidence of its presence was the howl of pain coming from the witch who was no longer looming over her rather beside her writhing in agony.

The witch spasmed and choked, the energy crackling around her, boiling her skin. The stench of rotting flesh flowed off of her in waves as the burning skin flaked onto the ground. A pressure built inside of her, pressing impossibly hard against her chest until she imploded, scattering her charred remains across the forest floor.

Gretel closed her eyes as the smoking body parts rained down upon her. When the muffled plopping sounds ceased, she tiled her head to try and get a line of sight on her brother. Hansel, still frozen in the same pose before the wave of energy hit, seemed to be unscathed by the event, until his eyes rolled in the back of his head. Gretel swallowed back her alarm as she watched him flop down in a boneless heap.

"Hansel," she whispered as she surrendered to the fatigue forcefully pushing her towards the darkness clouding her vision.


	2. Chapter 2

The firm, large hand resting on her back brought Gretel back to the world of the living with a start. Flinching away from the unknown contact, every muscle radiated with white hot agony. She frozen in place with a sharp gasp in an attempt to appease her body's protests and quiet the pain. Edward lowered his head into her line of sight, his eyes conveying concern more articulately than his words ever could.

"I'm alright," she pressed through clinched teeth. Looking around she took in the state of her two other companions, both unmoving on the ground. "Help Ben," Gretel managed, surprising herself with how even her voice was.

The troll looked at her as if to argue, but the determined look in her eye caused him to move over to the youngest member of their group as asked. He stopped short at the blood painting the rocky surface and steeled himself for the worst. Humans were very fragile and delicate, not the best for this line of work. With a gentle finger Edward poked at Ben's shoulder; the body moved limply but no measurable response from the soul that was supposed to dwell within.

With great care he slipped his hand beneath Ben's neck and raised the boy enough to lean against the troll's massive body. Ben's hair was matted with blood that seemed to be still oozing freely. The bigger motion caused the injured man to scrunch up his face and turn into Edward's warm hand but still he didn't open his eyes.

Edward's eyes paused on the red painting his hand; this was his friend's blood spilt. He never thought he would have people, human's no less, to call friends, let alone three and his silence had caused them harm. Quickly his hand roamed to the bottom of his shirt, ripping a stretch of fabric to wrap around Ben's wound and keep some of the precious liquid where it belonged.

* * *

With great determination, Gretel pulled her left leg underneath her. It was slow, agonizing work that left her panting but she managed to do it. Bracing herself with a deep breath she got her right leg underneath her, her hand coiling in a tight fist to give her something to focus on other than the pain. Finally on her knees she began to crawl towards Hansel. Carefully she moved each limb, trying not to aggravate them further and cause her to stop before she reached his side.

Hansel was eerily still and the familiar worry of losing him pressed upon her like a mountain. Her hands fluttered over every inch of him, frantically searching for any sign of injury, anything that would explain why he was unconscious. In the back of her mind she had a theory but it was too horrible to let see the light of day. She tried very hard not to replay events, Hansel's worried cry, the bright blue light that seemed to come from… It didn't happen like that, it couldn't have happened like that.

A relieved sigh filled the silent space, as Gretel found nothing more than scratches and small bruises on Hansel. One horror was eliminated and the steady rise and fall of his chest promised to keep her worst nightmare at bay. Without turning her head she called out, "How's Ben?"

The troll gave a throaty growl, pausing in his clumsy wrapping of the young man's head. "Not good. Alive."

It was all Gretel needed to hear at the moment; everyone was alive, that was something she could work with. "Hansel," she barked at the man in her arms, hoping to see those pale green eyes that offered her so much comfort whenever things were going so wrong. No response. Her heart hammering in her chest she slapped him across the face hoping to knock him back into this world. The unconscious hunter's brow creased minutely but he remained dead to the world.

"Hansel!" louder this time, the urgency tingeing the name with desperation. Gretel's hands coiled around his chest pressing him even tighter to her as though she could keep him in this world through sheer force. The weight of his prone body against her kept her grounded, reassured that maybe things could work out. They had survived worse before and lived to tell about it but what if they had used up their allotment of miracles already?

"We need to get them to the next town, see if they have a doctor…" Gretel voice shook, the words on the verge of cracking as they left her lips. She flinched, tightening her grip on Hansel as Edward's voice hit her with a force uncharacteristic of the gentle giant.

"No!" echoed off the weeping trees and stone cold cliffs. Gretel wasn't the only one startled by the shout, birds and other small woodland creatures that had taken refuge in the mighty trees when the fight began, risked fleeing their sanctuaries. Edward turned sharply to look at his friend. Her eyes were blurry with unshed tears and a look of fear he hadn't seen since she woke in his arms at the pond when they first met flashed across them. In a more subdued tone he added, "No towns, no people."

"They need help. This is no time to worry about people's reactions to us or you," she hissed through clenched teeth. Every second they wasted could mean the difference to both men.

The troll frowned and shook his head. She didn't understand, she couldn't understand, more importantly he lacked the words to make her understand just what was lurking on the horizon. This would not go unnoticed, it couldn't. They would sense it and come; the villages and towns would be the first places to look.

Very gently he scooped Ben into his arms and ambled over to where Gretel was still kneeling on the ground. Slowly, as not to jostle the damaged boy anymore, he laid him next to the pair of hunters. Gretel's eyes were glued to him, following his every movement with a wariness he'd never felt before. There was tension between them, where none had existed before and it weighed on Edward. "Take care of them," he said. His voice was remorseful; there was more he wanted to do, to say but it had to be this way. With a heavy heart he took his first step away, moving through the darkening forest and away from his friends.

Gretel watched in horror as Edward started to walk away. Her anxiety began to rise as she looked at Ben then back to Hansel. She wasn't sure she could stay on her own two feet right now, let alone move either of her companions and the troll was just leaving? "Edward! Where are you going?" she cried, but the retreating figure didn't look back, didn't even stop. "Edward," she whispered into the twilight; a silent prayer, that like all others she had made, went unanswered.

The young woman slumped forward, defeat coating every fiber of her being. A feeling of loneliness unlike anything she had ever felt poured into her chest, stealing her breath. She had to do something, Hansel and Ben were counting on her but the constant throb that ran through her body made it hard to think. The vastness of the forest dwarfed them, leaving Gretel feeling small and week in its wake; her best hope had just abandoned them. There was no way she could carry one of them let alone two, assuming she could find her way to the next town. The area was unfamiliar and regretfully she hadn't been giving Ben her full attention when he was prattling on about the area, future work and the distance to the next town.

A crack of thunder rattled the sky before the harsh whispers of the wind foretold of the coming storm. Ignoring the sharp, almost violent protests from her body, she managed to find her feet once again. Using one of the only skills she remembered from her father, one that was well honed through years of vagrancy, she began to fashion a shelter in the crock of a nearby rock formation. It wasn't anything to be proud of, but it was a shelter, something to keep them warm through the night until Gretel could come up with some sort of plan to get them out of the mess they so often found themselves.

The last of her strength gave out just as she dragged Ben's body in the shelter. Darkness had descended blanketing the forest in dark nothingness which was held at bay by the modest fire the hunter had managed to start. Gretel fell asleep to the pitter-patter of rain, wedged tightly between her two companions as she huddled them together for warmth.


	3. Chapter 3

It was like a strong wind blowing, the disturbance felt by all; a distinct shove announcing the arrival of another into the universe, one that must be quickly sought out and destroyed. It was an instinctual call felt by all those who were Lamiae, the need growing like an unquenchable thirst demanding they start the hunt.

Closing her eyes, Helaina tapped into the bond between her and her sisters, searching their collective knowledge to see if anyone had laid eyes on the disturbance. The male witch needed to be found before the consequences were felt by creature and human alike. None had laid eyes upon him yet and so the search began. Using the telepathic bond that formed between all Lamiae, the few scattered in the region closest to the disturbance divided the land into manageable search areas.

With her orders received Helaina began her quest. The only thing that would satisfy the thirst would be for one of the tribe to feast on the witch's blood, drain him dry and absorb the magic that threatened to be unleashed upon the world into their collective life line.

There was a certain satisfaction that came from performing the kill yourself and Helaina was hoping that this time would be her rite of passage. No longer viewed as a child she would be a warrior in her own right, a first kill would cement her status as a hunter and earn her the respect of her peers, all of whom had already made their claim and sacrificial offer in the name of their sisterhood.

Using her inhuman speed, she began to comb the country side, listening and smelling the air for any lingering trace of the magical wave that had rocked the world. All traces were faint and hard to pin down; the magic exuded still to fresh and new to pack a real punch, but it was coming. Male magic grew at an impressive rate which was one reason it was so dangerous. The Lamiae believed the covens were becoming too smart to let their mistakes live; the males often killed at birth to help stop them from exposing their craft to the mortals that seemed to be over populating the world, crucifying those who were different and magical. This soul had been allowed to live and most likely left on his own. There would be no one to protect him from the hunting pack. Helaina smiled, it would be too easy, all she had to do was track him down.

* * *

The muffled thud caused Gretel's eyes to snap open, her hand desperately searching for Hansel's until her fingers coiled tightly around the lax hand. Shooting to attention, her focus narrowed in on the terrified man sprawled out in the dirt next to them. She immediately turned to the troll so casually standing over them as though he hadn't abandoned the group in their hour of need.

Her sleep fogged brain failed to produce the question of clarification that she needed to voice before Edward leaned over the stranger, pointed to the three hunters huddled together and snarled, "Heal."

The man's wide eyes sought out Gretel's but she had no words for him, being in the dark about what was transpiring as much as he was. He trembled in the wake of the troll's forceful voice but made no movement. Edward leaned even closer; his face mere inches from the man and reemphasized his point. "Heal them." The troll's hot breath tingled against the strangers face and the man clutched the black sac in his hand tighter before giving a short jerky nod.

Satisfied that he made his point, Edward took a step back allowing the middle aged man to crawl towards his friends. The man went to Ben first, unwrapping the hastily bandaged head to examine the wound buried beneath. Gretel watched warily, tightening her grip on Hansel's hands as she watched the stranger the troll had brought tend to her friend. Seeing that Ben and Hansel were in no immediate danger from the intruder she launched to her feet, a frown passing over her face as muscles still not recovered from past abuse shuddered in pain.

"What the hell Edward!" she shouted, getting right in his face. "Why did you leave? Where did you go? And who the hell is that?" The questions tumbled out of her mouth with the force of a series of well placed blows. A part of her was relieved that Edward had returned, that their group was whole and in the face of the strange and weird it was a small comfort but the feeling of abandonment, of loneliness that had surrounded her last night needed to be exercised.

The troll's stoic features took on a small twinge of remorse but he didn't back down in the face of her despair. His massive finger pointed to the stranger he had brought, "Doctor." It was simple answer that somehow mitigated some of the betrayal felt from the night before.

"Where did he come from?" she asked, somewhat warming up to Edward again. Gretel had thought the worst when she watched him walk away without an explanation. Maybe seeking help hadn't been his intention upon leaving, perhaps having a change of heart along the way but whatever transpired to produce this outcome, the gesture was appreciated.

Edward cocked his head to the side. "Next town over."

"I thought you said we couldn't go to a town?" She looked expectantly at her companion. Edward was crafty in his own way and capable of warmth and humor that most would never take the time to unearth behind the unconventional exterior. This was clearly a situation where he knew more than he was willing to let on.

"Gretel," croaked Hansel, panic setting in when he didn't have eyes on her rather a stranger with something foul smelling in his palm.

Gretel turned, moving over to where Hansel lay, leaving the question unanswered in the wake of more pressing issues. "I'm here. I'm right here," she soothed, kneeling next to him and grabbing his hand as it blindly fluttered over the ground.

Hansel twisted his head out of the doctor's grasp to get a good look at his sister. Her smile was genuine and bright despite the cuts and scrapes that marred her face. "What happened?"

"Is he alright?" Gretel asked ignoring her brother's pressing question.

The doctor looked warily at his captor, fear of the troll evident in his face. "I can't see anything wrong," he replied, "your other friend on the other hand…"

"Anything you can do for Ben would be appreciated." Her words were warm but forceful and filled with sincerity. The man nodded and moved back over to his first charge.

"What's wrong with…" the words died in his throat as Hansel followed the doctor with his eyes, finally catching sight of the unconscious friend beside him. He snapped his head back to Gretel, an untamed fear dancing in his pale green eyes.

Gretel's stomach rolled. How was she going to explain something she didn't understand? He wanted to know what happen and the truth was she did too but even after time to replay what happened over and over again in her head, she had no explanation. Hansel was always the strong one, the one who put on the brave face even when things were hopeless. To see him panicking, absolutely terrified her.

Hansel closed his eyes and swallowed hard as again no answer was forthcoming from Gretel. "It's my fault, isn't it?" The words sounded so small as though spoken by a child and not a fierce hunter of witches.

For all that she had witnessed, what transpired the other day, she couldn't say what actually happened but somewhere deep in her soul she instinctually knew the answer. "It wasn't your fault." The lie comforted neither of them and like sand through their fingers the sense of completeness and peace that had enveloped them since coming to terms with their heritage fell through their fingers.


	4. Chapter 4

Hansel sat next to the fire, his legs pulled tightly to his chest as he stared blankly at the flickering flames. He should have been listening more intently to what the doctor was saying, after all it was his fault Ben was in that condition. He just couldn't seem to get his brain to focus on anything other than the blinding blue flash that occurred just before everything went black. The feeling that had preceded it was eerily familiar. The same thing had happened when he thought Katja was about to kill him in the barn. It was an instinct that kicked in rather than a conscious thought he had employed. The whole scene wasn't unfamiliar, he'd seen the aftermath of what happened a dozen times before; witch's magic was somewhat unmistakable.

Gretel spared a few seconds to glance back at her brother. He had been distant since regaining consciousness, verging on being down right cold towards her. She would expect the behavior towards strangers, even a little towards Edward and Ben when things hit a little too close to home for him but never towards her. Things were just starting to right themselves after the whole Andria incident and now it seemed like an even bigger wedge was being forced between them.

The conversation around her came to a pause and Gretel turned back to the group surrounding Ben. "So he's going to be alright?" she asked.

The larger man nodded slightly, looking down at the patient who was looking a little green around the gills. "Yes, eventually. For now, expect dizziness, loss of balance, nausea…"

As if on cue, Ben turned over and lost his lunch. Wiping his mouth with his shirt sleeve he rolled back over and smiled. The dopy look was skewed slightly by his constantly drooping eyes but he seemed to be in a bubbly mood despite everything. Edward placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder as his head lulled to the side.

"M'good," slurred the young hunter, "s'fine. Rrrr'we there yet?"

Gretel looked back at the doctor questioningly.

"Confusion is also common with a head injury like that. It too shall pass as long as he gets plenty of rest." The doctor reached into his bag and pulled out a small vile, passing it over to Gretel. "Laudanum," he nodded towards the bottle in her hands, "will help with the pain and allow him to rest."

"Thank you," replied Gretel, her voice flushed with gratitude.

Hesitantly the man looked at the troll, who was showing the injured man compassion far beyond what his rough exterior would suggest possible. It was certainly more than what the doctor could have envisioned given the terrifying abduction from his home the night before. "Can I… if that's all… am I allowed to leave now or are you going to kill me?"

Not willing to argue the sentiment about how they were the good guys, Gretel just nodded. "Yes, you can go."

The doctor began to back away slowly, keeping his eyes trained on the monster amongst them when an ear piercing howl tore through the sky.

Everyone tensed immediately in the silence that followed. An icy wind blew through the trees causing the branches to moan like old men required to move in ways they no longer could. Hansel raised his head off of his knees, ears straining for any sound that would identify what evil lurked in the forest. His hand subtly slipped along his leg towards the knife tucked in his boot, the handle familiar in the way most people felt about home.

Gretel let out a slow measured breath. They had too much on their plate, they didn't need whatever this was on top of it. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled in anticipation, her mind already calculating how many steps to close the distance between where she stood and her gun resting against the stump near Hansel.

Nostrils flailing, Edward sucked in a lungful of air, the sweet taste of flowers in full bloom and wet dirt assaulting him. Underneath that was something else, something rotten. Before he could turn to warn the others of what was riding on the wind, a dark streak flashed across the camp.

Gretel felt something move past her, her hair fluttering in its wake, but it moved too fast to lay eyes on it. A soft thump pulled her attention back to the center of the group, her breath catching in the back of her throat. Gruesome things had long lost their impact upon her but this one came as a surprise. The head of the doctor stared back up at her from where it came to rest on the ground, the body eventually crumpling to the forest floor beside it. She had been looking right at him when the creature streaked past them and hadn't seen it lay a hand on their guest.

"Gretel get down!" shouted Hansel from behind her. She turned at his panicked plea, coming eye to eye with something she had never seen before. Its physical structure looked human, more so than any witch they had come across. Its eyes were a metallic purple which contrasted her flawless skin which had the barest hint of silver, perfectly. For the first time in years, Gretel froze for half a second. It wasn't much but enough for the woman before her to backhand her fiercely, sending Gretel to the ground.

The second she hit Gretel, Hansel curled his finger tightly around the trigger, sending a perfectly aimed bullet right through her shoulder. At the same time Edward moved forward to slam her into the ground. The creature, though wounded, tossed the troll aside like he were nothing more than a bale of hay that needed to be chucked on the back of a cart.

Hansel took a second shot, aimed more towards the head of the creature but its lightening fast reflexes allowed her to dodge the projectile with ease bringing her to stand directly in front of the hunter. With an impressive strength, she twisted the rifle free from his hands, letting it carelessly drop at their feet. He managed to slip his right hand free, his left hand still in the creature's painfully tight grip, and wrap his fingers around the handle of the blade he pulled out earlier. With practiced movements Hansel jab his hand forward towards her midsection burying the weapon deep within her soft flesh.

The creature's eyes glowed, accentuating the hard line of purple that encircled her irises but she stood her ground. Hansel was helpless to move away, her hand crushing his arm as the other deflected his halfhearted attempts to hit her.

The creature's lips parted as she tilted her head closer to her prey, revealing two rows of sharp pointy teeth. With a snarl she grabbed a fistful of hair on the back of his head, pulling to expose the hunter's neck. She latched on to his neck, teeth cutting through the soft flesh giving her access to the exquisite and satisfying blood beneath.

Hansel let out a protesting grunt as she bit into his neck and began to suck. He could feel trickles of warm blood escape her lips and run down his throat to pool against his collar. Almost immediately a tiredness washed over him, zapping his energy and will to fight back. His head fell limply against her shoulder, but still she continued to drink, to feed, and with it he could feel her strength begin to increase. A warm peacefulness began to spread through him as his eyes drooped close; it almost felt like contentment and part of him wanted to forsake the pains of daily life and give into the feeling completely: heart, body and soul.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hansel caught Gretel trying to get to her knees. The pitter-patter of blood dripping from her split lip to the ground echoed in his head like a church bell. He was suppose to look out for her, protect Gretel from harm, and though he knew he had never been very successful at his life's mission, no one messed with his sister and got away with it.

The all too familiar tingling feeling sprung up, moving from his chest to his extremities. It gave way to a burning sensation, like someone had poured liquid metal over his skin, running and flowing over every inch before hardening and cracking to expose the burnt raw flesh underneath. The intensity of it was so great it tore a pained scream from his lips; the sound muffled against the creature's shoulder as she continued to feed unperturbed by her victim's plight. Finally the pressure reached an apex, surging from him like a tidal wave, washing away the world around him.

Hansel fell forward, no longer supported by the mass of the creature that had been pressed against him; instead he collapsed in a pile of ash. A small smile played on his lips as a cold emptiness swept over him, cooling his skin and relaxing his still spasming muscles. The hunter wanted to respond to his sister's desperate cries for his attention but he couldn't find the words to explain how tired he was, how satisfied.


	5. Chapter 5

Gretel's heart threatened to stop beating in her chest as she watched Hansel collapse to the ground, a bright red spot weeping blood down his neck. Her hand pressed against it instinctively trying to keep some of the precious liquid where it belonged. The wound didn't look life threatening but who knew how much the creature had taken from him. With her other hand, Gretel reached over and pinched her brother on the shoulder. It was part of a game they had played when they were children; if one thought the other was faking sleep, they were pinched for their deception. She knew he wasn't faking but the connection the action brought might reach Hansel. It had the desired affect and Gretel smiled as she caught sight of green eyes through narrow slits.

Motion to the left of the hunter pulled her attention away. Edward was scooping up Ben and several of their packs. There was an urgency in his movements that sent a chill down Gretel's spine. The troll rarely did anything without purpose, his moves careful and thought out, but now he seemed to be rushing, fuelled by what appeared to be fear.

"What are you doing?" she asked, watching as Ben passively allowed Edward to carry him in his arms.

"Need to leave," huffed the troll.

"I can see that, but what's going on? I know you know something," snapped Gretel.

Edward took a large step forward. "Need to leave now!" He stamped his foot down hard to emphasize his point.

Gretel shot to her feet, spitfire dancing in her eyes. "What's going on?" The pair stared at each other waiting for the other to blink or concede; neither happened. The tension in the air was almost alive and for the first time in a long time, Gretel remembered exactly what Edward was capable of if he so chose to pick a fight with them. His gentle nature masked the strength underneath and their friendship had served as a warm blanket masking the potential danger they all could potentially pose to one another should those relationships crumble.

Releasing some of the tension building within her, Gretel changed her stance hoping that backing down slightly would help decompress the situation. They needed each other, more importantly she needed what the troll knew. "Edward," she whispered, a quiet plea giving shape to her desperation.

He let out a grunt, shifting his weight back and forth while scrutinizing every inch of the woman before him. After some consideration he said, "Can't out run what's coming." It was a warning as well as a promise but Gretel could still hear the underlying sorrow in his voice.

Gretel glanced back at Hansel, trying to thaw the cold feeling ripping through her. Horrible things had been hunting them their whole lives, it seemed that was never going to change. "What's coming?" she asked, her voice more forceful then she felt, though the words still lacked the fierce drive that she usually put into hunting.

The big brute paused as though speaking the words would bring the threat to life, bring it upon them without mercy or respite. "Lamiae." Giving name to the threat didn't provide either any comfort. Rather than the truth setting him free, Edward felt as though it was a chain, wrapping him tightly and pulling him down in to the murky depths of death. If anything it made the inevitable outcome more real.

The name was foreign to the hunter who had the unfortunate pleasure of being well versed in things that went bump in the night. Based on appearances, it hadn't been anything they had come across before and as she wracked her brain for all the stories and legends she had come across, none of them mentioned Lamiae. They hadn't wronged one in their journeys, set out to hunt or kill one, so why would they seek out the hunters? More importantly, why Hansel? "Who are they?"

"Hunters of witches," grunted the troll.

"We hunt witches," protested Gretel.

Edward shook his head like a wet dog. "No. Male witches. Won't stop until they kill them."

Gretel's eyes shot back to Hansel. The creature had seemed more interested, hell focused on Hansel rather than the rest of them. Her heart started to pound in her chest. How was she going to protect him from something she knew nothing about. Their brief encounter had proven that the Lamiae had a strength that the hunters had never faced before; what other tricks would they have up their sleeves? "There has to be something we can do Edward."

"Never stop. Destroy everything in their path to get what they want," he assured.

"You should leave," croaked Hansel, struggling to sit up. He swayed slightly as he achieved a more vertical position but his gaze showed a strength and determination he wasn't quite capable of demonstrating just yet.

Edward looked apologetic, but reiterated, "Never out run them. More will come, many more."

"We'll seek out a coven of white witches, get them to help," tried Gretel desperately.

The troll shook his head in disagreement. The Lamiae were whispers, a dark shadow that lurked on the edge of the supernatural world. They were the monsters that monsters warned their children about.

"No!" protested Hansel, slamming his fist hard into the dirt. " _You_ leave, all of you. He said they were after me. It'll be safer if you all leave." He knew something wasn't right, not since the barn but he had selfishly tried to ignore it. Hansel had just wanted things to go back to the way they were before, before revelations that their heritage was the same as those they hunted, before the evils of the world sought fit to use them in their wicked plans. That desire to hold onto the small comfort of family they had pieced together was going to cost the most important person in his life theirs.

Gretel flinched at her brother's outburst. Desperately she tried to come up with some alternative to what Hansel was suggesting, some way to appease him that was going to keep them all safe. "Someone has to know a way to stop them, something that hurts them…" The siblings stared at each other, neither wanting to address the elephant in the room; that particular concern would have to wait for another time, or at least a less heated moment, even if it had taken out the Lamiae. "Everything can be killed."

Snorting, Hansel rolled his eyes. "You for one. Edward for two. And how about Ben there? That one's solely my fault or have you forgotten my little party trick?"

"Hansel." Gretel aimed for it to sound disapproving but the tremble in her voice contorted her displeasure into something akin to pleading.

"Scary monsters aside, I'm the biggest threat to everyone here. I can't control whatever this is and I'm not going to be responsible for hurting you. I can't." There was a dark edge in Hansel's voice that threatened extreme measures, should his warning not be heeded.

Gretel's shoulders slumped as she resigned herself to the situation. "You're right, it's not safe to be around you."


	6. Chapter 6

Hollow satisfaction filled Hansel as he watched his troop, his family, disappear down the road and out of his life. It was the right thing for everyone. He didn't have a desire to die alone, hell, despite what his lifestyle would suggest, he didn't want to die, but he wasn't going to be the cause of everyone that mattered to him being slaughtered at his hand or because of him. He was selfish enough to desperately want them around him, to feel the safety and security they would offer even in this hopeless time but he couldn't let himself be selfish enough to have them share his sentence. Not giving into that need would be the one thing he could do for them, to repay them for all that they had unknowingly given him. Hansel would self-destruct alone.

"You were supposed to go with them," he scolded, hiding his desperate need to have the one soul that truly understood him stay close by. He hated himself for needing Gretel so badly, for not fighting harder to get her to leave with the others.

"Your smelly feet and pigheadedness haven't driven me away yet, what makes you think this is going to be the thing that pushes me away?" teased Gretel, trying to inject some levity to mask the growing terror plaguing her.

Hansel turned and grasped her hand in his, preventing her from packing their things and taking away the constant motion that she had been using to delay the inevitable realization of the situation they were currently in. "Gretel," he forced out from around the burning lump in his throat. The other words weren't as easy to force out, bunching in his chest and threatening to consume his very being with their animalistic need to escape his lips.

Gently she cupped his face in her hand, her gut clenching in protectiveness as he leaned into the small comfort. "We'll find someone who knows exactly what's going on," Gretel offered.

"Oh yeah? Where are we going to do that?" snarled Hansel. In all their years as hunters they had never crossed paths with anything like this. It was safe to say that Edward had a fair understanding of supernatural things and the most he could offer was whoever they were after was a walking dead man. Even if it was some sort of mistake and these things thought he was a witch, Hansel doubted they could be convinced they were wrong. The troll had been afraid, knew they wouldn't stop until they claimed their prize; anything they did now was going to be delaying the inevitable.

Worse yet, there was a dark voice that whispered in the back of the hunter's head that the Lamiae were right, he was destined to become the very thing he swore to eradicate. Witches were evil, they did evil things. White witches, that was something Hansel was still trying to wrap his head around, but something he wasn't faced with everyday. He could deny them, make his world right again by putting them all back into the one category that had ruled his life; maintain the black and white of it all. Gretel was a little harder to reconcile with his world view but the unspoken understanding to keep that part of her, that part of their past out of the forefront of their daily lives allowed him to live the lie, that it wasn't who she was. How could he look himself in the mirror if this was true?

He didn't want this for Gretel and he certainly didn't want this for himself. The low-lying anger Hansel felt for their mother simmered within. At first it had been based solely on the siblings' abandonment; what kind of person left their children alone to face the big bad world like that? Harsh reality and resentment turned those initial feelings into self doubt and hatred. What had she seen within Hansel that made her throw him away like that? Later it had turned into hate and fear that she had passed on an evil that would haunt and consume them for all their days; now, those feelings were morphing in a realization that the evil was within.

Hansel had felt something stir in him the moment the creature sunk its teeth into him. It wasn't fear, concern or even acceptance; it had just felt right, almost destined. Like always, Gretel was there waiting to put up a fight for him when things would be so much better for her if she just left him to his fate. It was one more burden the young man wasn't sure he could carry anymore. Without him, she could settle down, live like normal people. In the beginning it would seem like it was forced upon her, like the lack of a hunting partner prevented her from waging war on the unholy, but after she found someone to love all the little things about her that someone should, after she had a family to give all the love she mistakenly wasted on Hansel, she would be happy.

Gretel tipped Hansel's chin up gently, pulling him from whatever thoughts were plaguing him. Her voice was sweet and coated with familiar casualness as she explained, "If these things seek out witches, we'll find a coven. They'll have to know something, some way to stop them, otherwise there wouldn't be any witches."

Pulling away Hansel jumped to his feet and began pacing back and forth. " _Male witches_ , they go after the males. That makes sense, cause when was the last time you ran into witch that wasn't female? And which coven are we going to go to? We don't exactly make friends with witches. The whole hunting and killing them puts a damper on that," snapped Hansel.

Gretel let out a sigh. Her brother was angry at the situation, at yet another curve ball life felt compelled to burden them with, not her. Swallowing her frustration down, she tried to bury it and keep the focus on the problem and not her brother's attitude, no matter how much it stung her or how much the situation called for it.

"There's never been a shortage of evil witches, I imagine there isn't a shortage of good ones. We've just never bothered to look before," she countered.

"Good, bad, I don't think it matters. _I'm_ dangerous!"

"Hansel," Gretel called, causing him to pause in his frantic pacing, "I don't think our mother would have risked everything for us if there was no hope, if we weren't worth saving."

A myriad of emotions flashed across the hunter's face at the mention of their mother, all of them breaking Gretel's heart as she stood there helpless against her brother's turmoil.

"I'm not a witch, I can't be," whispered Hansel. Defeat swept through him sapping all his energy until he had to focus on taking his next breath.

Part of her wanted to let Hansel live in his denial. Learning the truth had filled her with peace, while getting a handle on the magic within made her fell complete. Hansel just seemed to become more conflicted as their heritage became clearer and clearer. "Our mother was one, that means a part of you…."

Hansel's hands curled into tight balls of rage. "No. I'm not a witch! Witches are hags not men." What if their mother knew exactly what she was doing when she sent them out into the woods; two birds, one stone. Gretel would have been safe from Muriel and Hansel would have been left to the tender mercies of whatever creatures saw fit to prey upon him in all his unnaturalness, wiping clean the burden of dispatching him from his mother's hands.

Gretel frowned at the unintended dig against her.

"You know what I mean," he corrected, before letting his shoulders slump in defeat. He could pretend and deny all he wanted but at the end of the day it was still going to be true; the only monster in the family was him. Sounding more broken than Gretel could ever recall hearing he whispered, "I can't be this Gretel, I can't."

Without thought, she found herself suddenly next to her brother, wrapping her arms tightly around him and whispering soothing sentiments in his ear while she tried to ignore the silent tears rolling down his cheeks.

"You should leave," he reminded her.

"You didn't abandon me to Muriel and you stuck by me despite how you felt about magic. Do you really think I wouldn't do the same for you, you're my brother."

"No, I'm some sort of freak that's going to doom us all." Gretel had always had an optimism and strength that he envied. Despite their abandonment, she had always held out hope that their parents were going to swoop in, confess their mistake and take them home and in the absences of that dream, that they would find some happiness and turn their horrid lot in life into something special. She had had the strength to deal with the witchcraft that lurked within; Hansel didn't think he had any more fight left to deal with what he was destined to become.

"We're going to find a solution to this, get those Lamiae of your back and then meet up with Edward and Ben, just like I promised them," Gretel assured him, her voice full of authority and determination. Hansel opened his mouth to refute her claims but Gretel continued, "We'll get through this, even if I have to carry you to the finish line kicking and scream. I promise."


	7. Chapter 7

Cocking her head to the side, Helaina strained her ears to pick up the soft subtle sounds of someone approaching. Her hand tightened around the blade strapped to her hip but she resisted the urge to pull the knife from its sheaf. The moonlight danced on the pale silvery skin of the approaching figure and Helaina felt herself relax at the welcomed and familiar presence.

"What news do you have to bring," Helania asked her fellow Lamiae. The witch they had been sent to hunt down and destroy was proving difficult. Not only was he more powerful than they had assumed but he wasn't alone. Even without having any control over the power growing within him, the two that were still together possessed an impressive skill in combat, one that was proving to be a thorn in the hunting party's side. They had already lost four sisters to the human's hands and though they would do whatever it took to wipe this threat from the world, the price was becoming far too high.

Rosalinde reached up, slipping long delicate fingers under her eyelid until her finger could curl around the fleshy tissue of her eye and extract it from its socket in one swift motion. The muffled plop was the only sound as the eyeball was removed and passed over to her sister who offered one of hers in exchange.

Helaina plucked the eye from the outstretched hand slipped it into her now empty socket with practiced ease. She blinked a few times as the eye slipped into position before closing both eyes and allowing all the images her sister had witnessed to pass through her mind. It was like watching events as though she had been there. The death of her fellow hunters played out as she watched Hansel and Gretel move through the forest. Helaina studied her foe, memorized their movements and resources. Soon all their tricks would be known and they would stand no chance against the coming storm.

"They're good," Helaina offered as she watched the last bit of information play out. The Lamiae had been bestowed a rare gift, like the Fates with the all seeing eye, these watchers of magic could share knowledge learned by each sister by sharing their windows to the soul.

"They can't run forever and they're running out of places to go," reminded the older hunter. Rosalinde had had the privilege of participating in two hunts first hand, though the prey had been mere children and didn't offer the same resistance that the party was experiencing now. "No one will shelter them, they cannot hide."

The younger Lamiae nodded. This victory would prove all the more sweeter because of the challenge.

"Ursula wants us to adopt more sisters," informed Rosalinde with a reserved gleam in her eye at the prospect of expanding their family.

"It's not my place to question our matriarch," whispered Helaina as though she was afraid the woman herself would hear her protests from so far away, "but even if we find those worthy of integrating into our sisterhood, they will be too young and not yet blessed to our family to join us in this hunt. Would it not be wise to send experienced warriors to help with this task before replenishing out numbers?"

"You're right, it's not your place to question," Rosalinde snapped. "Those are our orders and we will follow. Report back once you have searched your quadrant for the witch. We lost him by the river and they were heading in this direction," she commanded before slithering back into the shadows of the forest.

Helaina sniffed the air searching for any scent of the human before taking off into the night to stalk her prey.

* * *

Hansel's lungs burned with exertion. The bone deep exhaustion that had set in from barely getting a wink of sleep before the hounds of hell were nipping at their heels each night was making it difficult to think, let alone move but he knew they had to keep going. The Lamiae had been relentless despite taking out four of them in the last month.

One had been killed during another random display of concentrated evil disguised as magic emanating from the young hunter despite his desperate attempts to keep his powers buried where they had been carefully hiding for the last twenty-five years. Another had been purely accident and more due to the wrath of Mother Nature in the form of a rockslide, than any effort on the siblings' behalf. They weren't witch hunter for nothing and through painful attempts, had found ways to despatch the silver creatures from the world. The Lamiae first appeared to be impervious to weapons, healing from gunshot and knife wounds in mere minutes. Their supernatural powers were no match for a shotgun blast directly to the head as long as the blast effectively blew their head right off. With that discovery under their belt, well handled piano wire decapitated like a knife through butter. Proximity was proving to be the real bitch in the whole beheading equation.

Gretel was hiding it well but the tell tale stiffness of past beatings was getting harder for her to hide from her brother's watchful eye. Every wound, every pause to take a breath was another 'I told you so' moment from Hansel and though he never said it, it was clearly written on his face, breaking her heart. If it wasn't for her constant pushing he would have given up long ago. It was getting harder to be the rock, to know that one moment of weakness on her part would be exploited by Hansel to give in and stop running.

She pushed her burning limbs harder, gaining one more mile after one more hard earned mile. She knew they had lost their pursuer three hours ago but any distance they could put between them and the relentless creature would translate in a couple extra precious minutes of sleep further down the road.

Hansel stooped suddenly, doubling over with his hands on his knees.

Gretel's heart pounded wildly as her gut clenched painfully at the sight of Hansel, a thousand scenarios tearing through her mind. Had she missed an injury after their last scuffle and he was slowly bleeding to death? Was it magic related?

"Hansel?" she wheezed, trying to get her breath back as she placed a hand on his shoulder.

"This is stupid," he replied, flopping down into a sitting position and giving into his body's demand for rest. "No more right now," he pleaded, wrapping his arm around her leg as Gretel began to gently comb her finger through his hair.

Her throat closed painfully around the sob fighting for release. "Okay. We'll take a break here for awhile." They had been running both literally and figuratively for so long that she didn't have it in her to deny him this one request; not when he sounded so broken and defeated.

A distressed cry in the distance brought both siblings to sharp awareness. Instinctively hands latched on to weapons as both found their legs and headed into the fray. No matter their personal problems or situations they found themselves in, the desperate cry of a child always trumped everything.

It didn't take long to close in on the scene. There in the forest clearing were two Lamiae and several young girls. The youngest was in the clutches of one of the creatures, its death like grip refusing to relinquish the child to the older teen frantically trying to pull the child away. The other silver beast was standing over the dead body of another young lady while dodging the wild swings of a tree branch being welded by another of the older girls.

"Hey!" shouted Hansel, swinging his shot gun off his back and bringing it to bear on the Lamiae holding on to the child. The second the creature turned his finger depressed against the trigger sending the projectile hurtling forward, shredding everything in its path and showering the young child in a mess of blood and bone.

The other huntress stop short in her advancement on the other children, turning towards Hansel with a wicked smile. Recognition colored her face as she moved swiftly towards the ultimate prey that had offered himself up on a silver palter.

With the threat distracted the two older children grabbed the younger two and ran towards the tree line. The innocent children out of the way, Gretel unleashed a hailstorm of arrow from her cross bow in a bid to give Hansel enough time to line up his second shot. Several found their mark in the fast moving creature but it managed to dodge Hansel's shotgun.

Hansel grunted as the full weight of the Lamiae slammed into him, knocking them both into the grass. She pinned his arms down before bearing her sharp teeth and tilting her head towards his neck. Hansel closed his eyes as he prepared for the piercing pain of the creature sinking her teeth into his neck; instead he got a mouthful of warm thick liquid and dead weight covering his body.

Coughing to expel the mysterious liquid, Hansel twisted to the side and managed to wiggle free of the weight pressing down on him. He wiped the substance from his eyes before turning to see what happened to the Lamiae. It took his sluggish mind a moment to connect the liquid as blood, not his blood, there was too much to be his. Hansel's eyes darted up to see Gretel, wire wrapped around her blood cover hands kneeling beside the freshly decapitated body.

"That was different," mumbled Hansel around a glob of blood he spat on the ground. "They think baiting us was going to give them the upper hand?"

Gretel wiped some of the splatter from her forehead. "I don't think they were using the children to lure us out. If the kids were bait, they wouldn't have killed one," she elaborated, pointing at one of the other bodies on the ground.

"Well that doesn't exactly fit with what we've learned. They were all girls and anyone who's bothered to give us two seconds of their time before slamming the door in our faces has said they only kill males."

"They wanted the girls for something and we should probably figure…" she trailed off, getting to her feet and moving slowly towards the forest edge, her focus pulled to the sound of rustling leaves.

"Gretel?" asked Hansel, slowly following behind.

"Shhhhh." She pointed up to the large tree and began to move around the trunk to get a better view of whatever was concealed high in the branches. With her brother standing a little further back, weapon at the ready, Gretel found an angle to catch a glimpse of who had been disturbing the branches. "Why hello there," she said sweetly.


	8. Chapter 8

The woods were terribly quiet in the wake of Gretel's discovery. A chilling standoff had presented itself and the hunter tried to make herself as nonthreatening as possible to try and elevate some of the tension.

"Are you going to come down or not?" snapped Hansel, hefting his shot gun onto his shoulder. His voice was irritated offering no room for sympathy to the plight of the individual taking refuge in the tree.

"Hansel!" hissed Gretel, turning sharply on her brother. He shrugged at her scowl and took a couple of steps back; kids were never really his strong suit. All traces of her annoyance vanished as she refocused on the young girl tucked up high in the tree, holding on with a death grip. "We're not going to hurt you." For added reassurance, Gretel wiped some of the blood and grime that inevitably ended up sprayed across her face.

The little girl looked through tear clouded eyes down at the pair; apprehension and mistrust rolled off of her in waves and her little fingers that were painfully gripping the rough bark refused to relinquish their hold. The monsters that had descended upon the small group of girls out berry picking for their families had been the thing nightmares were born from, but could people that killed such creatures be trusted? Monsters were by default bad, these people that had shown up and challenged them were a variable that hadn't presented itself to the child before. She bit her lip under the weight of indecision; stay in the tree or climb down to the strangers that had managed to scare away the beast?

A sharp howl echoed through the land and all three flinched slightly.

"Staying up or coming down kid? We can't stay here much longer; you won't like what's going to be following us," warned Hansel with his usual brashness.

"She's already scared, she doesn't need you making it worse," Gretel criticized, giving Hansel a slap upside the head. This wasn't just about saving a young girl, this was the first time that the Lamiae had attacked someone other than Hansel. More importantly none of the children in the group had been male.

Hansel hunched his shoulders at the hit but didn't hesitate to return the gesture, taking a half hearted swat at his sister's shoulder before pointing back to the tree. The little girl had shimmied down in record time, fear driving her from her previous place of refuge. She hugged the trunk tightly, not venturing closer to the siblings but the decision to trust them over the coming threat was clearly present on her face.

Hansel resisted the urge to crow about being right. Sweetness was nice and all but in a jam, fear was a motivator that produced results. Gretel could be sweet enough for the both of them.

Gretel kneeled down just within arms reach of the child. "My name is Gretel and this oaf is Hansel," she started, her calming tone indicative of someone who would be a great mother some day. What's your name?"

Small hands picked at the threads in her dress that came loose climbing the tree as she rubbed her toe in the dirt. "Mary," murmured the tiny girl around a trembling lip. Her voice was so quiet it could be mistaken for a whisper on the wind.

"It's nice to meet you Mary," Gretel returned with a warm smile. "What do you say we get out of here before more of those creatures show up?"

Mary warily looked past Gretel to Hansel who was fidgeting, his hand tapping along the barrel of his gun. Eventually she nodded, allowing Gretel to scoop her up in her arms, though her gaze never wavered from Hansel for very long. Even without trying he had that _murder you_ facial expression that made people uneasy.

"You wouldn't happen to know where home is from here would you?" asked Hansel. It definitely wasn't an area the siblings had traveled before and only having a vague sense of the direction the other children fled wasn't going to keep them ahead of their foe.

Wrapping her arms tighter around Gretel's neck, Mary nodded again, pointing down one of the trails. Hansel gestured for Gretel to proceed before he followed in line putting one tired foot in front of the other.

* * *

It felt good to be helping someone again. The problem with the Lamiae had been unrelenting and all consuming, wearing both hunters to the bone simply to keep one step ahead. Any satisfaction that could be taken from their line of work had been forfeit to saving their own hides instead of others. It was almost enough to begin to recharge Hansel's energy had he not been pushed past the point of utter exhaustion. It was Gretel, her safety and refusal to give up that had kept him putting one foot in front of the other, fighting against the silver creatures that managed to get a little too close, a little too often lately.

He was just about to ask for a break when Mary began to squirm frantically in Gretel's arms. The small blonde fidgeted like a person possessed, forcing the hunter to release her grip on the child. Immediately survival instincts kicked in and both siblings were mentally preparing for battle. The action to grab weapons was aborted however as a group of women ascended the hill ahead of them.

"Mommy!" cried Mary as she ran towards the group, practically lunging into the arms of one of the women. Mother and daughter embraced in a tearful reunion smothering each other in kisses.

One of the other four women took a step forward, placing herself between the happily reunited pair and the two outsiders. It was a defensive position that also spoke of authority over the group. "Thank you for returning her to us but you must leave."

The hunters stood their momentarily stunned at the reception while the remaining women began to shepherd mother and daughter back over the crest of the hill.

"Wait," implored Gretel, "my name's Gretel and this is my brother Hans…"

"We know who you are," snapped the woman, her cold hard eyes boring into Gretel's. What had started as a warm reception, the unification of a mother with her child which always hit close to home for the hunters, had quickly turned arctic. "That is why you must leave, now!"

Hansel let out a huff before rolling his aching shoulders. It was more of the same. They had been turned away at every turn, firmly cementing the idea that they were well and truly alone. They couldn't in good conscious take refuge in any of the towns; they had no right to bring the Lamiae down on anyone and the creatures had made it very clear they would let nothing stand in their way to get their claws into Hansel. That had left them sleeping with one eye open under the stars along the backwoods trails that were conducive to anything but a goodnight's sleep. With the recent revelation of white witches, the small remote communities that the hunters had often passed through without notice or incident had turned out more often than not to be entire or partial sanctuaries to covens of witches; all of which had steadfastly refused to help or allow the siblings to stay, no matter how short their respite might have been.

"You know who we are?" questioned Gretel. Their reputation often preceded them but she doubted it had traveled that far north that they would be recognized by sight alone.

"The whole magical community knows of the witch hunters Hansel and Gretel. Knowledge of threats to our safety is important to our coven's continued survival." The woman refused to back down an inch, maintaining her ridged stance before them.

"Please, you clearly know about the Lamiae. You can give us information," pleaded Gretel, though the woman's hard exterior seemed unaffected by the young hunter's pleas. "They were after one of your children; perhaps we can help each other."

"They're after our children because of him!" she shrieked, pointing a long boney finger towards Hansel.

"Me?" Hansel choked. He was use to being blamed for a lot of hardships in people's lives but this was the first time it had been by a community he had had no previous contact with; usually they waited until after they started their hunt before blaming the hunters for their troubles.

"You're the one they seek and now you've put all our youth at risk. Leave now or I'll offer you to them," warned the woman brandishing her wand.

The magic wouldn't do anything but frightened and anger people had a way of being dangerous. Hansel steeled himself for their continuous journey to nowhere but Gretel didn't seem that willing to let it go. "We're just looking for some help. We…"

"We're not going to beg, Gretel," barked Hansel. It was frustrating watching his sister give the situation her all, only to come up empty handed every step of the way. She was only forestalling his inevitable demise but watching hope being constantly dangled in her face was what was breaking Hansel's heart.

"But…"

"But nothing. If they want us gone then we'll go."

Gretel's hand clenched in to fists. No one was willing to help and worse yet, Hansel seemed complacent in the fact that there was no hope; he was giving up. Perhaps he had been giving up for a while and Gretel just wasn't willing to accept it, but she certainly wasn't going to. The woman had retreated back down the hill during their brief discussion and Gretel had never felt more alone in her life. There was no skill she possessed or idea she had that was going to keep her brother safe.

"Wait," called someone in the distance. Both hunters turned and looked towards the crest of the hill. Mary's mother paused at the top to catch her breath. She looked hesitant as she glanced over her shoulder at the way she came before speaking. "You saved my little girl and I don't know if I can ever repay you for that but I want to try. I can't help you and you'll be hard pressed to find anyone brave enough, but there are rumors of someone who can."

"We'll take whatever we can get," injected Gretel, rather enthusiastically as the sparkle made its way back in her eyes.

"The Lamiae are charged with destroying threats to the delicate balance of magic. Males who are cursed with their family's magic can't control it and so the Lamiae hunt them down and destroy that magic. You can't stop them and you can't out run them; many have tried. That is why many covens have taken up the practice of killing the male children that show signs of processing magic," explained the blonde.

"So not all children of witches have magical abilities?" Despite hunting witches their whole lives, Gretel had to admit, their knowledge base was solely comprised of curses and how to kill them.

"No. It's rare for a girl not to take after her mother but it happens. The first born male is most likely to be cursed but that's not a certainty. Some poor women have several sons doomed to a short life, which brings me to how I might be able to help. There is legend of a boy that survived his coven's attempts to spare him a death at the hands of the Lamiae. This story is forty years old making him the oldest living male witch in existence."

Gretel perked up at the new information. If someone survived the Lamiae then there was a possibility that Hansel could as well.

"They say he found a way to hide his magic from them. If they can't sense it, they won't hunt you."

Gretel's voice trembled in the face of possibility. "How do we find this man?"

Mary's mother turned and pointed towards the daunting blue mountain in the distance. "He's said to dwell at the top of the mountain."

"That's going to be a hell of a climb," Hansel scoffed. They were still several days from reaching the base of the mountain that covered the forest in the shadow of its might, let alone the days it would take to make their way up such rough terrain.

"But be warned," the witch cautioned, "you'll find no friends amongst the covens, even if your mother was a grand white witch. The Lamiae don't have children of their own, they steal ours. That's why they were after the girls this afternoon; they were looking for children to alter magically and make theirs and replace their numbers."

"Great, so it is my fault they're going after other people." Hansel knew he was tired; he usually did a better job of hiding his miserable self introspection. Turning away from the group, he fought back the burn of threatening tears. His own mother didn't want him and everybody they met afterwards seemed equally excited to have him leave. Having another reason to see him as nothing more than a problem darkening their door certainly would never endear him to anyone.

"Then that's where we'll go," covered Gretel, taking the attention off of Hansel. She offered the witch a genuine smile, probably the first one she felt in the last month. "Thank you."

Unable to ignore her motherly instincts, Mary's mother reached out to place a gentle hand on Hansel's shoulder. "I'm sure she had hoped you'd been spared. You are far too old to have shown no signs by now. It's a mother's greatest fear and a terrible burden for a witch to watch for signs in her son. I'm sure she thought you were safe," she whispered.

"How did you.." stammered Hansel. He never spoke of his mother or the fears he had in regards to the subject, especially his newest crop of demons that had surfaced in light of his current predicament, yet this woman seemed to know.

"A mother can tell and you look so lost child. Now go, it's a long arduous journey and they'll be on your heels shortly. They say his territory is guarded by birds. Good Luck."

Hansel and Gretel stood in silence taking in the task that lay before them. It looked to be quite the undertaking and they had already travelled so far.

"Last time I checked we weren't part mountain goat, Gretel."

"Well close your eyes and wish really hard, maybe hooves will appear because we're doing this." With a determined nod, Gretel took the first step towards their new destination.


	9. Chapter 9

The rocky terrain of the broken mountain trail was lit in a dim blue hue from the pale moon over head. It was barely enough to keep the shadows at bay but gave enough to light their way, at least one footstep in front of them. Hansel's slow nonsensical ramblings had ceased half an hour ago, though the slow trickle of blood down the side of his head did not.

Gritting her teeth, Gretel hefted her brother's arm further over her shoulder to support his increasingly growing dead weight as they mechanically put one tired and aching foot in front of the other. The numerous cuts and scrapes that littered her body burned and pulled with every breath, but still they had to go on. She just wasn't sure what they were going to accomplish except putting off the inevitable.

Gretel was hopeless. She knew helplessness when their father left them in the woods. She knew it again when a witch chained them up in her candy house and again when Hansel became ill before a gypsy passing through town taught them how to keep the sugar sickness at bay. It was the only thing she felt when she watched Hansel fall through the hole in the floor at their childhood home after Muriel stab him and yet again when Andria had taken him. This was different; this was undoubtedly hopelessness in all its ugliness. The Lamiae were relentless, unlike any enemy they had faced before. At this rate, Hansel and Gretel would be the story parents told their children at night. A cautionary tale for those who thought to stand against the monsters that hid under the bed. One day these stories would have happy endings but as she continued on, she was hard pressed to think of any modern tales that didn't end in death and misery; theirs would be no different.

The journey had been difficult and the terrain unforgiving. The beaten path had long since detoured from them, leaving a broken trail of birds carved into trees. They couldn't even say if the symbols really meant something or if they were chasing an illusion until fate could finally catch up to them. The symbols were based on stories and legend about the one they seek, passed down with gossip about neighbors and relatives until most of the story had been lost, except that the symbols lead the way. With no other options available Gretel had forced them to continue on, to follow a path to nowhere.

The Lamiae weren't deterred by the difficult path chosen. The silver creatures continued their raids against them, inflicting more damage with each attempt. The hunter's weapons had little effect, nor did their skills which were rapidly decreasing as injury and fatigue set in. Gretel had even resorted to trying magic. Like spells cast by witches against the siblings, it had no effect. The only thing that seemed to hurt them was the unpredictable and uncontrollable magical outbursts exhibited by Hansel.

Each time it happened, it bought them precious time and distance, but the toll it was taking on Hansel was undeniable. They were getting beat, both physically and mentally from the Lamiae and Hansel was being torn from the inside out by something Gretel knew he never wanted.

Gretel never had any feelings towards magic, sure there were spells she hated but the craft itself wasn't the problem. She hated witches and all the other things that went bump in the night. It was the uses and the innocent lives that were affected by them that hit home for her but not the craft itself. Maybe it was her then unknown heritage that tempered her view on the subject from such a young age or maybe it was the distant memory always lurking at the back of her mind of her mother using it to protect her and Hansel.

Hansel hated magic and its users. He had always been vocal about his feelings towards it from the get go. In his eyes it was the enemy, the reason bad things happened to good people. After Muriel's revelation, Gretel watched his hatred for it grow even more. There was no denying the roll it had played in tearing apart their family, it set them on a course that given the option, neither one would have picked for their future. Now the thing he hated the most was flowing in his veins to and Gretel could do nothing to ease that pain, like there was nothing they could do to escape their fate.

The pounding thud of their pursuers echoed like a drum behind them but still Gretel kept putting one foot in front of the other, dragging Hansel along with her. They were out of ammo, not that it had been effective when they had it. It pissed the Lamiae off but there was a certain level of satisfaction in firing a few rounds into the silver devils. They weren't in any physical condition to offer more than token protest and Gretel was the only one still fighting mentally.

If they were going to die, they were going to do it on their feet, working towards a goal. The hunter let out a long breath before steeling her determination to keep moving. They started this together and if she had anything to say about it, they would end this together, as a family.

Gretel cried out as a pair of claws sliced into her leg. The sheer pain and force of the blow knocked her off balance bring both her and Hansel to the ground. Out of the corner of her eye she could see three pairs of feet circling them like vultures, poised and ready to feed off of the dead.

Two descended on the pair, quickly subduing Gretel's wild, frantic punches and attempts to claw, bite and kick with the last of her reserves. An animalistic cry tore from her lungs as she felt Hansel's hand be pried from her steel like grip. She had given it everything she had and it wasn't enough; she had failed to protect her brother.

The fear and sense of loss was lost in a river of pain and blinding light. The once dark mountain side lit on fire under the harsh and all encompassing golden glow that swept through it. It was so bright, Gretel had to squeeze her eyes shut and still it did nothing to lessen the intensity of it. The cries and screams of agony from the Lamiae, sweet as music, were lost against the pounding of her heart. If the creatures were scared, then what was coming was something to be feared. Gretel clawed at the dirt in a feeble attempt to get away from the light.

The screams stopped and the light faded back into darkness but the slight buzz in the hunter's ears remained. She waited, tense for a blow or a fight that didn't seem to be coming. Slowly, Gretel lifted her head and blinked away the spots dancing before he eyes. Her hand frantically glided over the ground searching for some part of Hansel to latch onto. She came up empty, like the night.

"Hansel," she croaked, barely above a whisper as he throat burned with the effort. The silence swallowed up her plea and offered nothing in return. Gretel tried to suck in a deep breath but her lungs refused to cooperate, nothing wanted to cooperate except the tears curling down her face. She wanted to howl and rage at the loss but her body was too stunned and too numb to full process how completely alone she was, just how much she failed.

A soft thud near her head helped ground her in the present. With a sly smile curling her lips, she snapped her head up to greet Hansel only to be confronted with a pair of unfamiliar shoes. Her smile disappeared in a flash, replaced with confusion and resurfacing agony.

The cloaked figure stood there like a statue taking in the broken woman on the ground. The brown hood provided enough shadow to mask the stranger's features from view before bending over to get a good view of Gretel.

The hunter strained her eyes to get a good look at the person before her, not quite sure what to make of the discovery. The man looked to be in his mid forties with soft brown hair and eyes that seemed to have seen more than his years would suggest. The thing that stole Gretel's breath was the thin black line that coiled its way across his face like a rouge vine. It was a start to the tell tale sign of witchcraft. "You're a witch," she breathed. The world suddenly began to swim as darkness rippled over her vision.

"So are you," he replied before Gretel lost her fight to stay conscious.


	10. Chapter 10

Gretel let out a soft sigh, reveling in the soft comfort that surrounded her. She nuzzled her face deeper into the pillow unwilling to forfeit the warm embrace of the blanket for the roughness of day. Any inn was better than a night spent on hard ground in the open night air, but it was a rare thing for the siblings to find an inn with this nice of a bed. Whatever evil thing brought them to such a nice accommodation could surely wait ten more minutes; it would be the least she could do in exchange for this rare luxury, after all, it didn't sound like Hansel was chomping at the bit to get going.

Hansel…

Gretel shot up in bed fighting the tangle of blankets. Her heart pounding wildly as the memories from before she passed out ripped and tore her former calm to shreds. They had been making their way up the mountain when the Lamiae attacked again. The pair had been over powered, Hansel's hand torn away from hers and…

The young hunter looked around the unfamiliar surroundings, praying for some sign of her brother. The small room only contained a bed, a side table and a dimly glowing oil lamp. A spike of fear pierced her heart as her world crumbled beneath her.

She blinked in surprise as he bare feet hit the floor. Taking stalk of herself, she realized, not only were her boots gone, but so were her clothes, replaced with a large grey shirt that was long enough to fit like a dress. Humility and anger ran through her at the thought of someone bold enough to disrobe her and the face that she had not woken for a moment of it. Like Hansel, her things were not in the confines of the room.

Quietly she slipped out of bed, ignoring the goose bumps that prickled her legs at the sudden loss of warmth. Slowly she crept towards the door, nervousness making her rigid. Gretel had no idea what was beyond the door and worse yet, she'd have to face it without any weapons.

Her hand cautiously wrapped around the door knob, turning it ever so slowly. To her surprise, it clicked open. Was it over confidence or stupidity that led the enemy to such and oversight of leaving it unlocked or was it perhaps a sign of a potential ally dwelling within these walls?

Gretel slipped through the crack in the door the moment it was large enough, her senses heightened as she slid along the wall. The hall was dark except for a faint glow from the room at the end. She bit her lip; she needed to find Hansel but she also needed to know what she was up against.

Pushing herself forward, Gretel stuck to the shadows. She peeked around the corner to the room with the light. It was a well sized living area with a large fireplace in the center of the opposite wall. The large flames danced within, painting the room in a pleasant glow while licking the edges of the pot hanging over the fire. Puttering around was the man in the cloak. He moved easily from the fire, to the book propped open on the table, to the shelves of jars and back again in an endless loop.

Gretel watched for a few moments, waiting for the right moment to scurry into the room and duck behind the row of bookshelves near the end of the room. As he made his move towards the jars to retrieve another and add the contents to the pot on the fire, she made her move too.

"It's rude to lurk in shadows," stated the man without looking pausing in his task nor looking at Gretel. Part of her wanted to stay where she was. Maybe there was a chance he hadn't seen her, that this was some kind of trick to get her to reveal herself? That thought was quickly rendered useless as the mysterious man curled his hand with a flick of the wrist, causing the candles in the corner to cough and sputter to life while a chair slid out from the table.

The man starred at the chair expectantly. There was no point in trying to pretend, Gretel was out matched at the moment. The man practiced magic with an ease that put most of the witches they had met to shame and she wasn't exactly on her A game physically or mentally at the moment.

With as much fake bravado as she could muster, Gretel stood up and walked boldly to the table. She would show no fear in the face of his intense stare, even if it all reminded her too much of a house made of candy nestled in the woods and their captivity there. The hunter sat down, tense and full of nerves.

Silently the man picked up a bowl from the side, blowing in it and rubbing at it with the corner of his shirt before filling it with the contents boiling over the fire. Gretel flinched at the sharp clunk as he not so gently placed the bowl and spoon down in front of her.

"Eat." There was no room for argument as he moved back to his book. It wasn't said sharply enough to be an order but not gently enough to be a suggestion. Instinctively her hand wrapped around the spoon and she hated herself for it; she wasn't that small girl anymore. She didn't have to take orders from anyone, especially one that was probably going to kill her.

"Where's Hansel?" she demanded, eyes cold as ice.

"Eat it or starve, but I assure you, it's much better warm," he rebutted.

In a display of childish petulance, Gretel swept her arm over the table, spilling the contents of the bowl and knocking the dishes to the floor. "Tell me where my brother is!"

The man was a blank slate. If Gretel had angered him, she couldn't tell. Keeping his eyes on her he moved back to the table and picked up the dishes from the floor. "What, were you raised by dogs?" he asked conversationally, and Gretel hated him more for it. "Most people are grateful for hospitality."

"Most people would answer the damn question."

"I don't know who Hansel is but I assume he's the _man_ you were with." Gretel didn't reply, just sharpened her gaze. "He's in the other room."

The hunter's head snapped towards the closed door across the room.

"He's resting," informed the man with a little more force to his voice. "He was substantially more beat up than you."

"Is he going to be alright," she practically begged. Mentally she counted the number of steps it would take to get to her brother.

"I imagine not," he snorted, sitting down across from Gretel with a bowl of his own. Hear head twisted back in the man's direction as cold panic began to set in. It was tempered only by the heat of her rage that the stranger could stuff his face while her world threatened to collapse.

"The Lamiae are after your brother; he's never going to be alright again," he elaborated, "but I suppose that's why you decided to come here and darkened my door."

"But he's not severely injured?"

"No."

Gretel's shoulders slumped in relief. As long as Hansel was alive there was hope. "We were told you could fix this."

"Well you were misinformed," he answered. He snatched Gretel's empty bowl before leaning back in his chair so it balanced precariously on two legs and filled the bowl once more.

"But you practice magic." Frustration began to build again as the man rolled his eyes dismissively. "Don't pretend you don't. I can see the signs." A thin black line curled across the young man's face. As far as disfiguration from the dark arts went, the mark could be considered beautiful but it was still the sign of powers used.

"Doesn't mean I can help you." Pushing the now full bowl a little closer to Gretel he stated, "Eat. You're no good to him half dead."

This had been their last hope, the thing she had dragged Hansel half way across the county for. This was what she used to push her brother to take one more step and like everything else in life it was riddled with disappointment. Failing to keep the venom out of her voice she snapped, "What do you care?"

"It's inconvenient having to remove dead bodies from my house," he retorted with something reminiscent of the banter Hansel often plagued her with.

"Are you threatening us?"

"You'll know when I'm threatening you." He locked eyes with Gretel. "For someone needing my help, you're certainly hostile. A little appreciation would go a long way."

"For?"

"Saving you and your brother from our friends back there for starters."

The hard edge of Gretel's voice softened as she mumbled, "Thanks." Her index finger tapped against the spoon on the table gently. "I don't even know your name."

"Kaspar," he answered before turning his attention back to his soup.

She needed to know for sure that this wasn't some weird coincidence, that they had found who they were looking for but what if he really couldn't help? She needed a way to save her brother. "And you are _the_ male witch from the stories?"

A small smirk played on Kaspar's lips. "The one and only."

"Not anymore," corrected Gretel.

"A situation that usually corrects itself in time."

"Are you trying to tell me that there's no hope?"

"I guess that depends on you."

"Is that some sort of proposition, because if you like certain appendages where they are, you'd be wise to cease your advances," she warned. There was something so infuriating about the man across the table from her but she wasn't in a position to alienate him for fear of retribution.

Kaspar choke on his mouthful of soup. "As thrilling as a romp with you in the hay would be, I'm not interested." His nervous laugh caused the threatening silence to disappear.

Hansel and Gretel had made it a point to never need anyone in their lives. Everyone had proven they couldn't be counted on except one another except they needed someone now. She didn't know where she stood with this strange witch but she needed the kindness of a stranger now, she need him to be able to help.

"I should go check on Hansel." Slowly she got up from the table.

"Take him a bowl of broth and if he's awake see if he can keep it down. If not, let him rest and do the same. You're both going to need it," he instructed with what sounded like genuine concern.

Gretel spun around to face Kaspar, he hands clenching into fists. "Is this some sort of game to you?" One minute there was concern out of her companion then next she was regarded with indifference or humor. It was too much for her to try and balance right now.

"It does get lonely here, and I do have to make my own entertainment but if you must know, it's not a question of if I want to help you but rather if your brother wants help."

That knocked the wind out of Gretel. Hansel was as stubborn as a mule, forcing Gretel to make him do things for his own good. Here they were on the edge of possible help and it was going to come down to Hansel's desire for it. Normally there wouldn't be a question in her mind that he would dig in and do whatever it took, especially if it was for her. But lately he had been dragging, brought along by Gretel's determination alone.

"We can discuss this more when he's on his feet and know what he wants because I can tell you it won't be easy. Until then, you're free to help yourself to anything you find but word of the wise, if you don't know what it is, I wouldn't touch it."

Gretel nodded before ducking into the safety of Hansel's room. She relaxed as she laid eyes on her brother asleep in the bed. He was pale and covered in cuts and bruises but he was still alive, still with her. She sat down next him and gripped his hand tightly trying not to think that perhaps she had just gotten in league with the devil.


	11. Chapter 11

Hansel held his breath, not wanting to disturb Gretel. Worry gnawed at the edge of his resolve as he debated between the need to open his eyes to check what danger they'd gotten themselves in now, and getting lost in the warm feeling of Gretel curled behind him. Gently carding her fingers through his hair was a habit she had taken to when she was worried about him. They must surely be up a creek without a paddle for her to be so gentle and motherly in a way she only showed when he was sick. The revelation caused him to stiffen as he remembered that he was indeed plagued, not with a simple cold, but something much darker, much worse.

"Hansel?" murmured Gretel, her fingers pausing as she felt the shift in his formerly relaxed demeanor.

His breath ghosted over dry and cracked lips as he pried his eyelids open against the gritty feeling of his eyes. "'m still 'ear," Hansel slurred, not sure if he should be pleasantly surprised that they weren't dead or just putting off the inevitable. "Where's 'ear 'nyway?"

Gretel slipped her hand from Hansel's hair, shifting his head gently from her lap to the pillows. Though there were no serious injuries, he still looked like he had been through the ringer. Black and blue really weren't his colors. His eyes darted around the room but before he could voice his concerns, she grabbed a spoonful of the now cold broth and pressed it to his lips.

Hansel scrunched his face at the overly salty broth but gratefully took it to sooth his rough throat. He could see the toll their current predicament was taking on his sister; the dark circles never seemed to go away, unlike her warm smile that never seemed to come anymore. The light in her eyes and joy in her voice had long been replaced with pale skin and worry lines. It killed him to know he was the cause; he always seemed to be the cause.

After they had escaped the witch in the candy house and Hansel had started to show the first signs of the sugar sickness, it was Gretel that stayed with him, held his hand and promised that they hadn't survived the monster to have it all end that way. Hansel swallowed hard. He should have sent her away then, spared her from wasting her time.

"Stop that. We're going to get through this," scolded Gretel, giving him a gentle but firm smack on the side of the head. Somehow she always knew what thoughts were lurking in the dark recesses of Hansel's mind.

He snorted. "Been saving up for a miracle?"

"No," she confessed, "but stranger things have happened." Gretel paused, thinking about how she ended up hunting witches for a living with her brother, a troll and a boy that had practically made the siblings his religion, before choosing her next words carefully. Kaspar was a wildcard she didn't know how to read yet. "We might have found someone who could help you with your… problem."

"Yeah? Who?" Hansel's skepticism hung off every word. He had a solution to the problem. Hell, he had an endless supply of solutions he could load into his gun, if only he could convince Gretel to just let him go. He needed her understanding and her blessing or at the very least, her acceptance, otherwise she was liable to do something stupid. Hansel really had no desire to spend eternity as a member of the undead or something equally as horrible, should Gretel prove crazy enough to seek out someone who could do something so rash. And Gretel had proven herself to be just that crazy when it came to him. For both their souls, he needed her to let go.

"The guy who claims to be the only surviving male witch. At the very least, he can kick the Lamiae's asses and seems to be offering us shelter," she answered, almost daring to hope that salvation was upon them.

As if the stories weren't enough to convince Hansel of his impending death from the silver creatures' hands weren't enough, the foreboding ache in his gut assured him of the one possible outcome to his story. "And at most?"

"He has a way to help you." Gretel clinched her fist as Hansel rolled his eyes. "He's obviously survived, which means it can be done," she protested.

"At what price?" snapped Hansel. The thought of running forever was as appealing as selling his soul and becoming the very thing he hated. Nothing was worth preying on innocent children to live, nothing. "I don't have control over this thing Gretel! I've already hurt people, _friends,_ who's next? You? I can't let that happen. I won't! I didn't want this Gretel. I'm not going to become like…"

"Like who?" she demanded, hurt burning every fiber of her being. "Me? Our mother? Who Hansel?"

Hansel lowered his eyes. It was the same fight come back to haunt them. The inescapable truth that no matter what, _this_ was who he was: the monster parent's warned their children about; the monster pretending to be a man. "Like them!"

Gretel slammed the bowl down on the side table by the bed with a resounding thud. They had been on the same page for so long, and now the last year, they just seemed to be in completely different books. It wasn't like Hansel's hatred was anything new or some secret he had kept to himself. The truth was she couldn't even blame him for his attitude because somewhere along the line it wasn't Hansel that had changed, it was her. But still there was something just under the surface that she'd never taken the time to notice or question. It was a self-loathing that had only began to take root after their brush with Muriel. "Why do you feel you have to be punished?"

The temperature in the room felt like it dropped a few degrees as Hansel stared at his sister. Denial and lies danced on his tongue begging to see the light of day and he desperately wanted to tell her she was wrong. Terror rippled across his face from to a combination of being discovered, and fear, that maybe she believed it as much as he did. Hansel dug deep, searching for the strength to offer some reassurance but he came up empty. He was just so tired and the truth came bubbling out. "Because I've failed! I failed to protect you from this life. I failed in making sure you had a family, a safe place growing up. How many kids did we not get to in time?" His hands were forever stained with the blood of those he failed. Witches were relentless and no matter how many they killed in righteous anger, more always seemed to slither from the cracks and kill more innocent children. And now he had to factor in the good witch angle. How many white witches had he killed in his haste to rid the world of magic? How many witches like Gretel, like his mother, like Mina, who had no greater desire than to protect their loved ones and live in peace, had he killed blinded by hate?

" _This,_ this is a sign that I'm no better than the monsters we tried to save people from. In fact I'm worse. I was just pretending to be one of the good guys!"

"Hansel, this doesn't change who you are. You're still the stubborn, idiotic, oaf of a brother you've always been," offered Gretel in a soothing yet taunting tone. "And along with all of that is a loyal, brave, courageous man who's made it his life mission to save others from all the horrors and suffering he's had to endure."

A small speck of confidence wormed its way through Hansel's cracks. Despite everything, and there was no one that had seen him at his lowest or darkest than his sister, Gretel still had faith in him, still believed he was worth saving. It was hard to ignore. "You forgot ruggedly handsome," he added shyly.

Gretel smiled, her first genuine smile in months. "I haven't lied to you yet. I'm not about to start now."

"In the spirit of full disclosure," started Kaspar from the shadow of the doorway, undeterred from interrupting the tender sibling moment, "You should know that the task you're about to set on should not be taken lightly. It takes a certain type of individual to rise above the magic and not let it consume them. Though I guess if it was easy, everyone would do it."

 _Yeah, easy,_ thought Hansel as he took his first look at their supposed savior and the telltale lines of dark magic that decorated his face. He had a terrible feeling his struggles were just beginning.


	12. Chapter 12

**Five Weeks later**

Hansel staggered into his little room and collapsed on the bed. He was exhausted and hurting in places he didn't even know he could hurt. Kaspar, the fascist slave driver, was relentless in his supposed training, which if Hansel was being honest, was not going well. Maybe it was because he felt absolutely ridiculous doing the man's stupid exercises, both physical and mental. Really, where did the man come up with some of this stuff? Meditation? Hansel was pretty sure there weren't a lot of thoughts in his head to clear to start with, but being told to think about nothing seemed to spur every thought he ever had to come and overload his brain.

It hadn't stopped the weird magical outbursts, but they hadn't increased in frequency either; a small victory among the many and endless amount of losses. At least he had a better sense of when they were about to erupt; the feeling becoming uncomfortably more familiar. Understanding of their forewarning had kept Gretel out of the line of fire and their host, though Hansel couldn't conjure up feelings about the latter, one way or another. The fact that the people he did care about weren't being hurt anymore was one of the only things that kept Hansel from wandering past the magical walls protecting Kaspar's attempt at paradise.

Out of the two of them, Gretel seemed to be more interested in what Kaspar had to say, the wisdom he decided to grace them with. Then again, she had always been the one to show more interest in understanding and studying the monsters they were hunting. Hansel just wanted a good weapon and someone to point him in the right direction. His survival had always been attributed to Gretel's brilliant and inquisitive mind. It still sent chills down his spine at how fast she picked up what Kaspar was spewing out. If he wasn't sure this was his only chance, he would drag his sister from this place and this man, so obviously not squarely on the side of right, kicking and screaming, if only for her own good.

Hansel wanted to be grateful, at the very least for saving Gretel from sharing his fate at the hands of the Lamiae, though there seemed to be an undercurrent of ulterior motive to be too grateful for Kaspar saving him. Still, he had promised Gretel he would put the effort in and so like a trained animal, he instinctively reached for the thick, black, leather bound book that was permanently located on the side table in his room. The pages well worn before he even received the book, becoming creased and tattered with his repeated use.

The secrets within the black book, written in Kaspar's hasty scrawl, documented his own struggle from the same position Hansel found himself now. The literature was clearly written by someone blessed with an education far greater than anything the hunter was capable of, let alone could dream of acquiring had he had every advantage in this world, and when the man got on a roll, Hansel's understanding dropped from every third word to every tenth, but he muddled through all the same.

Days all followed the same pattern. Mornings were for chores around the house and the only time Hansel felt particularly useful. Hard labor he could do without question and it was a nice break from the constant torment of the supernatural world he was being submerged in. It was the one time of day he didn't feel like he was drowning. Gretel had been tasked with the cooking, much to her distain and Hansel couldn't help but smile every time she not so subtly dropped their plates of subpar food in front of the men.

Hansel dredged the afternoons and their apparent nothingness that stretched on until the sun began to set. Kaspar called it progress and gaining self-control, while Hansel called it a lot of sitting around chanting and performing ridiculous exercises that never produced the same results as when Kaspar did them. The nothingness, however, always left him exhausted and aching.

The hunter placed his leather bookmark between the pages and set the book back on the side table. Barely summoning enough energy he leaned over and blew out the candle plunging the room into much welcomed darkness.

* * *

The nightmares were the worst, not that Hansel's dreams had become anything other than weird. They varied between being roasted alive at the Candy Witch's house, to Muriel peeling off his flesh, to Andrea's cave, to being drowned in bright green light. The latter always left him breathlessly tangled up in the sheets with Gretel gently trying to wake him. He had always had the occasional nightmare about the work he had devoted his life to; usually they decreased in frequency the further away they travelled, but these ones were different, more relentless, more vivid, more real.

Stifling a yawn, Hansel stumbled to the kitchen table and plopped down in the nearest chair. The shining sun of moning and chirping birds a stark contrast to how he felt. Kaspar didn't bother to pry his nose out of a rather large and ancient looking book he had propped in his lap but Gretel paused in setting Hansel's breakfast down.

"You look like shit," she mused.

"Didn't sleep much," muttered Hansel. Pushing his plate of Gretel's attempt at oatmeal aside, he pillowed his head on his arm and let his eyes drift close.

"We're going to need some supplies from town," informed Kaspar in his usual cold detached voice.

"I thought you had everything you needed up here?" asked Gretel, joining the men at the table.

"I'm self sufficient in most things but there are a few things I have to procure from town." He picked up the rather flat looking biscuit from his plate and tapped it against the edge of the table to demonstrate its hard inedibleness. "Besides, it might be nice to have some fresh bread by someone who can cook."

Gretel scowled and took a bite of her own breakfast. It took some effort but she wasn't willing to let it show that she felt the same way about the food. She was a witch hunter, not a housewife. Baking fresh bread wasn't exactly a skill she needed to perfect. "How long will you be gone?"

"I'm not going, you are," Kaspar corrected.

Hansel had only been partially following the conversation and snapped his head up, clearly having misheard. "Who's going where?"

"Your sister is going to town and get us some supplies," clarified Kaspar, enunciating each word as though Hansel was being especially stupid.

Gretel looked surprise but it was Hansel who bit out, "The Lamiae are out there."

"They're not looking for her, in fact, they want nothing to do with _her_. Where ever you are, that's where they'll be lurking, as long as you stay here, they'll stay in the area; kept out by my magical barrier of course."

Hansel clenched his jaw. It was one thing for Gretel to treat him like a child sometimes, it was another thing when Kaspar did it. "It's too dangerous for her to go alone!"

Kaspar placed his book down on the table and looked Hansel square in the eye. "You can't go for obvious reasons and I can't leave you alone, so that leaves on option. She got you this far, surely this task isn't beyond her. Besides, there's a trail known only to me that leads to an off the trail village. They're happy to supply me with what I need and Gretel shouldn't run into any problems. It's the least she can do for the hospitality I've shown you two."

Hansel wanted nothing more than to punch the smug man sitting across the table from him and tell him where he could shove his hospitality but Gretel's hand on his arm stopped him.

Gretel looked at her brother imploringly. "It's fine Hansel. I can do it."

The ' _we need his help'_ went unsaid. Hansel hated being indebted to anyone but he especially hated Gretel being indebted to anyone because of him. It always came down to the same problem, Hansel had to take Gretel away from here but if he did that before he had his curse under control, then he was a big a threat to his sister as anyone else. He resolved to work harder, to try harder.

"I'll show you which mule to use to pull the wagon," offered Kaspar, rising out of his seat and heading to the shed that housed the animals.

* * *

Hansel leaned against a fence post watching Kaspar hook the mule to the wagon. He couldn't hide his glare and part of him didn't want to. He softened slightly at Gretel's touch.

Gretel let her hand slip off Hansel's shoulder to help hoist her bag that was slipping down. Her smile was bright in an attempt to reassure. "It will be alright," she whispered. "It's not like I haven't done things on my own before," she added, gesturing to her bag and the weapons undoubtedly hidden within.

Hansel tried to conjure up a smile but it didn't reach his eyes. "Just be careful out there. I have a bad feeling about this."

"You always have a bad feeling," she teased.

"And I'm always right. One day there and one day back Gretel. Any longer and I'm coming to get you, Lamiae be damned."

Gretel ruffled her brother's hair before walking over to throw her bag on the cart. Grabbing the mule by the reigns, she began her long walk down the mountain through a trail in one of the crevasses Kaspar had carved out.

Hansel stood there ignoring the feeling of unease turning his stomach, until he could no longer see any sign of Gretel. She was right, under normal circumstances he wouldn't' have thought twice about her going off on her own but then again, he never had such a foreboding feeling before.

"Now that your protector has left," started Kaspar as Hansel turned towards him.

Before the hunter could say anything a bright green light enveloped him setting every nerve on fire. His legs buckled as the ground rushed up to meet Hansel and then he knew nothing but black.

"We can begin," finished Kaspar as he stood over Hansel's unconscious form.


	13. Chapter 13

Hansel awoke coughing and sputtering as the ice water ran in rivets down his body and in his mouth. He felt fuzzy and slow, but his memory was crystal clear. The second his muscles could bare weight he shot to his feet, anger fueling his movements and unrelenting glare. Kaspar was casually leaning against the fence, empty bucket dangling in his hand and looking bored.

"What the hell?" Hansel choked out, still struggling to find his equilibrium and make sense of the situation beyond having been attacked by someone who didn't feel the need to finish the job. He was both thankful and insulted.

Kaspar pulled a loose thread from his shoulder and absently dropped it in the dirt. "Calm down, or don't. I think I might get the reaction I'm looking for if you stay all riled up." There was a clinical detachment to his voice and Hansel felt like a specimen in a display jar at one of the local doctors the siblings had first sought out when Hansel had become sick as a child.

The words didn't seem to permeate Hansel's brain in a way that made sense and a silence stretched between the two men, framed only by the hunter's raged breaths. He never considered himself a man of many words but even Hansel's few words seemed to be failing him. "What the hell?" he repeated, with little hope of receiving an answer he could make sense out of.

Shaking his head dismissively, Kaspar flicked his wrist bring his hand palm side up with his index finger pointing directly at Hansel.

It was like a bolt of energy smashing into Hansel's left leg. The pain was brief but intense and his knee buckled under the strain. Dropping to his knee, he clenched his hands in to fists by his side, grinding his teeth in a vain attempt to distract himself from the agony and lingering numbness.

Kaspar tossed the bucket to the side, letting it hit the ground with a muted thud. Without urgency or apparent purpose he sauntered over to the kneeling man. Undeterred by the hostility radiating off of Hansel, he smiled. "Your sister coddles you too much. More importantly, despite your promise to her to try, I think you're holding back."

"And what would you know," snarled Hansel, barely getting his breathing back under control.

"I know you should have made more progress by now. Did you know the first born male witch is almost certain to inherit their mother's magic and demonstrate it within the first year of their life? A second born male witch will demonstrate their power, should they inherit it, by age five and after that should any other male heirs be produced and possess magic, they will demonstrate it by their twelfth year. The most rare and latest case I have ever heard of is sixteen, but you… you're older than that. Why?"

Hansel snorted as he stood back up. "Just lucky I guess."

"I doubt that. Your sister's not practiced enough to have done it, perhaps mother?"

"Done what?" Of all the times for Hansel to be caught off guard without a weapon, he'd never so desperately wanted to bash the end of his rifle into someone's head so much. The riddles and games were tedious and getting him nowhere. At least regular witches were transparent in their desire to kill you.

"Your magic has been suppressed and by someone rather powerful. Without this spell, I think you would have been Lamiae fodder long ago. It would also explain your belief that witch's magic doesn't work on either of you."

The words sunk like led in Hansel's gut. The only other person who could have possibly had the power to do such a thing would have been their mother, the one person Hansel had spent years hating more than anyone else. He had hated her for abandoning them, for leaving them to the lives they would take up in their family's absence. Then Muriel had happened and that hatred had softened slightly. Hansel had spent his whole life looking out for Gretel and he could forgive their parents for sending them away in order to protect his sister, but he couldn't forgive their mother for the evil that followed in his veins. The potential of this revelation threatened to turn his whole world upside down and make a mockery of his beliefs. His hatred gave him strength, without it where would he be? The world had been black and white and in the wake of numerous revelations it was painted in far too many shades of gray for him to make heads or tails of.

The hunter was snapped back to the present with a sharp jolt radiating up his arm. "Seems like your magic's working rather well," protested Hansel, trying to shake the numbness out of his arm. Andrea's evil had worked on him too when so many others had failed because deep down inside, he wanted it to. Surely he didn't have some deep seeded desire to let Kaspar remove him from this world, did he? His anger was rising up, demanding to be released on Kaspar for everything he had done and everything others had inflicted upon Hansel.

Kaspar chuckled, "Hardly. My magic is very powerful. If something wasn't deflecting most of it, you'd be dead.

Hansel's glare sharpened. "You knew that before hand?" The thought of some smug son of a bitch gambling with his life for their own general amusement was as off putting as Kaspar's ability to seemingly know everything.

"I suspected, and now I'm sure," he offered casually.

"You son of a bitch!" Hansel could feel something swell up inside of him and instead of fighting it, stomping it back down to the depth of hell in which it was born, he just let go. The display of magic was unlike anything he's yet produced. While his aim was practically nonexistent, he still felt like he made his point, if only to the now smoldering remains of the former large pine tree.

Over the rapid pounding of Hansel's heart, he could just make out the high pitched wails of the Lamiae in the distance as they fruitlessly tried to breach the barrier and acquire their prize, like a grizzly that finally got its first taste of human blood and hungered for more, magic was in the air. He could feel their hunger and desire too, like someone had told them their prize pig was ready for slaughter and a most bountiful meal was due.

Where Hansel usually felt weak and spent, now he felt energized and alive. His hand tingled in anticipation as he experimentally rubbed his thumb across his fingers, leaving a magical oil slick in its wake. The pressure was back, begging to be released, demanding to be put on display and then freed into the world like the living thing it was and Hansel obliged.

With a wicked smile he extended his hand toward Kaspar and reveled in the bright green flash that followed. Like many of the witches they young hunters had come across, his target seemed to possess lightning fast reflexes. Much to Hansel's dismay, his attempt missed the mark.

A childish smile curved Kaspar's face, his eyes shining with the glee of a young boy enthralled in a riveting game of chance. He ducked past several more attempts to repay his unorthodox lesson for Hansel while delivering a few more shots of magical encouragement himself.

After several failed to make contact with his intended target, Hansel found himself with his back against the side of the house, nowhere to go that would put him out of the way of Kaspar's next shot. As the ball of yellow energy accelerated towards him, Hansel raised his hands to try and absorb most of the shock and spare himself some of the impending pain. He screwed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw in anticipation but nothing happened.

Hesitantly, he cracked on eye open and then the other, his jaw gaping slightly at what he saw. Floating before him like a giant bubble was a sphere of beautiful color. The yellows morphed into golds and oranges but remained in a perfect sphere shape outlined in electric green. His fingers twitched and the bubble flinched slightly, bending to his command. Hansel let out a shaky breath as he realized, he had done that, he was in control.

Ever so slowly, Hansel reached out with one hand, his fingers brushing the delicate lining of the bubble. Applying a little more force to his touch, he pressed against the magical sphere. The light molded around the hunter's finger for a moment before it finally burst, letting loose like a bucket of water dumping. The light within splashed to the ground, painting it with a yellowish tinge.

Applause echoed through the space which now seemed so miniscule and yet so vast to Hansel. His eyes flicked over to Kaspar, who seemed happy; the first real emotion the man had expressed besides indifference towards the hunters since their arrival.

"I knew you had it in you," commended Kaspar. "Now you can really begin. Follow me."

Hansel stood deathly still as Kaspar walked into the house. He felt lost at sea, unable to pin down any single emotion that was stirring within him. Parted of him wanted to run after the witch like a lost dog that had finally found its master, another part craved more, to learn more, discover more. The part that had made Hansel the man he was today hesitated at the threshold of the door. He considered his limited option for a moment, then ducking his head in shame, stepped inside the house.

* * *

Kaspar struck a match against the rough grain of the work bench causing the tip to burst to life in a flash of light that quickly muted to a more stable level. The nearby candle coughed and sputtered it's acceptance of the fame, throwing enough of a glow to push the darkness back. As the flame lapped and licked at the wick the shadows cast on Kaspar's face highlighted the think black vines of magic that curled across his features.

It was a sobering reminder of just who's company Hansel was keeping. In the exhilarating rush that had followed each burst of magical release the harsh lines of reality had melted away. This man was not his friend, this man was a witch who learned to keep the beast at bay. Sure he had offered to impart that wisdom upon the hunter, but he couldn't help but feel as though he was on the edge of a slippery slope and the fall would be treacherous if he slipped.

"Know that we've seen you're potential, we can explore it and then learn to control it," said Kaspar as he perused though a stack of dusty old books Finding the one he sought, he pushed the others off the table with a thud and began fervently flipping through the pages. "Here," he exclaimed, practically shoving the book into Hansel's chest.

The hunter to the book trusted at him, turning it around to read the script painted on the page. "I don't even know what language these words are supposed to be," confessed Hansel. The few letters he could identify in the fancy scrawl didn't form any combination to any words he had picked up. While his vocabulary wasn't expansive by any means, he could always pick out something he recognized.

"It's an ancient tongue, you shouldn't recognize any of the words but say them anyways." Kaspar looked at Hansel expectantly.

"Um."

Kaspar took pity on Hansel's bewildered look and read the passage out loud taking care with each word. The hunter dutifully repeated with only a few stumbles here and there. The words were few but the sounds unfamiliar enough that his tongue didn't curve around them with the same grace as Kaspar.

The candles that adorned the small house ignited all at once and Hansel had to shut his eyes against the sudden change ambiance. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened. It wasn't prefaced with the same swell of pressure or warmth or the subsequent green light but he knew what or rather who had caused the candles to burst to life. The exhilaration and tingle still followed and Hansel let his eyes slide shut as he got lost in the feeling. It was warmth and safety while at the same time it felt like standing too close to the edge of a cliff, with the wind running its finger through his hair. It was the edge of a knife in which he could tumble back to safety or oblivion and he loved the feeling.

"Come let's try another one. We don't need grandiose displays to learn to temper your hand; simple children's spells should help you gain control." Excitement radiated off of Kaspar

Hansel found his new found enthusiasm infectious almost as much as the feeling he got when he stopped trying to hold back what was so desperately dying to get out. One spell turned into two, turned into ten; the minutes to hours as time slipped by without notice. As Hansel collapsed into bed that evening, black book all but forgotten, the feeling that he had spent the whole day chasing lingered in every extremity and curled deep in his gut with belonging and longing. He felt complete and sated.


	14. Chapter 14

The lone call of morning came far too early for Hansel. As the rooster announced the beginning of a new day, the hunter felt as though last night should have been far more thrilling than he remembered it being. There were no casks of ale, odes of bravery, or friendly bar maidens wandring around to justify the splitting headache and the aches that seemed to have aches, just a barren bedroom and a rumpled bed. He rubbed his head and squinted against the rays of light creeping in through the old battered shutters.

It wasn't enough light to chase the shadows of night completely away and Hansel let out a curse as he stubbed his toe against one of the many discarded books strewn across the floor. Hopping on one foot he tumbled back into bed. Needing to illuminate the modest bedroom in order to traverse the cluttered floor, Hansel pawed at the side table hoping to find something to light the oil lamp sitting idly on the table.

"Son of a bitch," he mumbled, coming up empty. He wasn't prepared to deal with the day if everything was going to go wrong and he had to feel like this. Grabbing the pillow he dropped it over his face in a halfhearted attempt at suffocation. As he lay there weighing the pros and cons of actually attempting to navigate the carelessly discarded book minefield, he realized he had a solution to his problem.

The words had seemed so foreign yesterday, yet today they felt like old friends. Upon completion of the few lines, the oil lamp ignited, alleviating the darkness in the space untouched by the rising sun. A small smile graced the hunter's face as he reveled in his accomplishment. Carefully, he stepped around the minefield of strewn books to head for the kitchen for something to drink, in the hopes of maybe dulling his raging headache.

The house was still and quiet, Kaspar nowhere to be seen but the door to his room was still closed. Hansel fumbled with the knickknacks on the shelf, trying to find a cup before dipping it into the bucket of well water left from the day before. The lukewarm water quenched his parched throat and it occurred to him that the headache that had been so prominent when he woke, had completely disappeared. In fact, he felt terrific. It wasn't the euphoric feeling of yesterday, but it wasn't the 'too much ale the night before' feeling anymore either.

What he was, was starving now. It had been a long time since Hansel felt that famished. It was a type of hunger that made itself known when they siblings were too consumed in the hunt to stop to eat for a few days or the hard days when work was hard to come by and their money reserves ran too low to stay in a town and game had made itself scarce. The odd part was he had eaten the night before, in fact, the pair had feasted on wine and pheasant that Kaspar had magically captured.

He continued his rummaging through every possible cupboard in the kitchen area in search of something that would sate his hunger. The cupboards weren't bare but the jars, bottles and other vessels occupying the shelves contained questionable items that didn't look like they fell anywhere near the margins of what constituted food. "Gretel better hurry up," Hansel muttered. She wasn't due until later that night, but if she showed up early and rescued him from his relentless hunger, he would gladly take on all the less favorable chores they performed on their travels for at least a month.

Hansel flinched at a sudden and loud thud behind him. Turning sharply, muscles coiling tightly in anticipation of a fight, he glared at the intruder. Kaspar stood unfazed near the table. The hunter looked from him to the larger book he had so unceremoniously deposited on the table.

"Since you're up, I figured we could move on to something… more productive," explained the witch, gesturing to the book.

"Why not," sighed Hansel resigning himself to going with the flow. The sooner he gained control, the sooner he and Gretel could leave all this behind and get back to what they were good at and with any luck, put this whole magic thing behind them, never again to see the light of day.

* * *

The successive pop of each vertebrae snapping back into place went unnoticed in the quiet of Kaspar's makeshift library as Hansel stretched and twisted to alleviate his stiffness. The pair had been pouring over a new set of books that Kaspar had pulled from the depths of the library, complete with an healthy layer of dust adorning each, and had engaged in testing Hansel's abilities to make the spells works for most of the morning. It seemed easier today than it had yesterday. Even the words seemed less foreign, both on the page and flowing over his tongue.

Each new venture and every page turned took the sting out of what Hansel was doing. No one was getting hurt by what he was doing. Kaspar hadn't insisted they sacrifice and children or living creatures to fulfill any spell requirements. It was all seemingly harmless.

It was that sentiment that directed Hansel's thoughts as he sat there alone, Kapsar having muttered some excuse to excuse himself for a moment. Mena had used her powers for good, to help Hansel even though she knew his feelings on witches, Mena, who he had misjudged in all aspects from the very beginning. Perhaps he had misjudged the fate that had befallen him. Gretel had used magic to fight witches and she was still the same sweet soul he had always known. Letting go and embracing what he had inherited from his mother, as long as he could control it might not be as horrific as he had imagined.

Still there was a voice inside his head, growing smaller by the hour but relentless nonetheless, that screamed that he shouldn't be doing this at all, let alone so freely. It was muted by the euphoric rush that washed over him every time he gave into the ever increasing need to let his power free into the world. It was a rush, like hanging by a rope over a ravine, the intoxicating thrill of defying death while being precariously perched upon its sword. He could pull himself up or slip and plummet to his death; either way it would be momentarily exhilarating.

"Here," offered Kaspar, plopping a plate with something resembling meat wrapped in pasty in front of Hansel. "Have some dinner."

"Dinner?" questioned Hansel. "When you walked out of here it was noon."

Kaspar scrunched up his face. "That was several hours ago."

Confused, Hansel turned to peer through the small crack in the shutters over the window. The small stream of light that had curled its way in with the morning sun had since vanished, leaving the murky darkness of early evening in its wake. The hunter paused for a moment, wondering how time had seemed to escape him so easily and with a task that he normally abhorred and struggled with. More importantly, he wondered how he could have missed Gretel's return for keeping his nose glued in a book. This wasn't him; he was usually more focused on the things going on around him, a hazard and life saving skill developed from years of hunting things that could use any moment of distraction to their throats out. It should have bothered him that he didn't quite feel like himself but he couldn't place a finger on what was different either.

Keeping his concern and little voice of concern to himself, he asked, "Where's Gretel?" He peered around Kaspar, trying to get a glimpse of his sister beyond the door.

"She's not back yet," corrected Kaspar. He sat down across the table to begin working on his own plate of deliciously smelling dinner.

A moment of panic flared in Hansel. He tried to think of why that news was troubling, but anything that didn't involve his recent studies seemed to be blanketed with a thick layer of fog that his mind had trouble traversing. "But," he protested ineloquently and gaping slightly while gesturing towards the plate of food," there wasn't… there's no food in the kitchen." It wasn't the point he wanted to make, wasn't the nagging dread burrowing deep in his gut but the point still stood.

A devilish half smirk appeared on Kaspar's face as he snorted in derision. "You'll never want for anything when you have mastered the mystery and art of magic."

Hansel froze in his movement to grab the cutlery on his plate. He may have been more willing to embrace his magic as long as it created momentum towards controlling it, but both men knew he wasn't yet willing to partake in indulgent and apparent forms of personal gain.

Rolling his eyes, Kaspar divulged, "It's called baking. You mix ingredients in a bowl then put it in a pan and cook it in the oven. I hear you're familiar with ovens."

" _Right_ ," mumbled Hansel, shoving in a huge mouthful of food.

"I had to produce something, your sister isn't going to make it back tonight." Before Hansel could swallow his bite and declare his intent at some fool hardy attempt to track Gretel down, Kaspar elaborated, "A storm has been blowing in all afternoon. It hasn't hit here yet but I bet it did hit the village early enough that if Gretel was smart, she'd stay there for the night and make the journey tomorrow in better weather."

It made sense. The siblings were no strangers to poor weather condition, often changing their plans to accommodate the worst Mother Nature had to offer. Another day wouldn't even be the longest the two had spent apart and Gretel was capable of looking after herself. "She'll be here tomorrow then?"

"I would imagine," confirmed Kaspar. He gestured to the book Hansel had gotten half way through. "We should keep going."

Hansel let out a long breath. He couldn't find a fault in Kaspar's logic, but there was something within him that demanded he toss the book aside, grab his coat and march down the mountain to meet Gretel. With every spell uttered and small magic conjured the nagging feeling began to die behind a rush of euphoric bliss.


	15. Chapter 15

Hansel woke to a pins and needles feeling in his arm that was hanging awkwardly off of the bed that he had barely flopped onto before passing out the night before. His eyes had no sooner cracked open then he rolled over and promptly threw up. It was becoming an uncomfortably familiar pattern over the last seven days. Absently he flicked his wrist towards the open shutters to command them to shut out the harsh light of morning with the added benefit of not having to crawl out of bed.

Life had taken on a tolerable numbness in which the days just floated by. Anything that didn't have to do with the witchcraft or the books Kaspar was always eager to dump in front of him and Hansel went along with it. Things were just better when he wasn't fighting against his destiny, hell he even felt better physically. He wasn't so far gone that he didn't have a vague sense of what was happening; the reassuring warmth that swept through him every time he embraced his inherited gifts just made it easier to accept, to embrace. The little foreboding voice, that had served him so well in the past, promised the path to ruin lay ahead, but the euphoric feelings that silenced the voice were addictive to stop.

It didn't take long, but what was now a simple magical command to close the shutter was just enough to take the edge off and quiet the rolling of his stomach. His uncoordinated limbs had to work hard to roll him over so Hansel was lying on his back with a better view to contemplate actually getting up for the day. As the silence of early morning filled the room, leaving a soft buzz in his ears, there was something that Hansel felt he was forgetting, something so important it wouldn't allow him completely let go and enjoy the thrilling rush that came from the world he was slipping into.

Perhaps it was some small kernel of his soul that couldn't let him enjoy his new found happiness. He still knew that witchcraft was wrong but it wasn't like he was one of the many monsters he had devoted his life to hunting down and eradicating. Innocent people weren't paying for his crimes, in fact, there didn't seem to be a victim of any sort in the harmless exercises he engaged in. He hadn't had any desire to seek out children and sacrifice them to some demonic god in exchange for favors; he could keep this in check. If Hansel worked hard enough and got his powers under his control, then he could leave Kaspar's hut on the mountain and rejoin the world to do as he wished.

Leaving had been Hansel's goal the moment he first woke up in this bed and it was still the thing that pushed him to improve each day, but after mastering his craft and leaving this place was no longer the crystal clear vision it had once been. He was going to leave and after that… it was mostly a question mark hanging over his future. It had involved someone else, someone with a soft smile and steel determination. Every time Hansel tried to picture that person, tried to make out the features that seemed similar to his but slightly different, he only came up with a faceless ghost who refused to let him have peace.

Sitting up and halfheartedly smoothing out his rumpled shirt, he pushed the thoughts aside. If the ghosts of the past wanted to be elusive, they could be buried with the rush of an exhilarating future. Whoever the woman in his memories was, if she was important enough to haunt him, surely she would be there to help him.

* * *

"What's this?" asked Hansel holding up a particularly decorative vial.

Most of the jars and vials Kaspar kept around the house were simple glass vessels filled with odd colors and unique smells that Hansel didn't want to ask to many questions about. There was one cupboard that Kaspar had kept under lock and key, which after the hunter had finally begun to delve into his birthright without hesitation, Kaspar had started to pull from. The vials were porcelain with hand painted designs adorning them. Hansel never considered himself someone who appreciated art in any of its forms, but these fell squarely in the beautiful category. This one was different still. Buried deep in the back behind the vial Kaspar had asked him to fetch, was a metallic black bottle with gold and jewels encrusted around the neck.

Kaspar looked up from the book he was flipping through, in search of a spell Hansel absolutely must try. "Not what I asked for."

It felt heavy in Hansel's hand and the temptation to open it was surprisingly strong. Biting on his lip, he reluctantly put the mysterious bottle back in exchange for the one he was supposed to acquire. He moved back to the table, placing the white bottle in front of Kaspar. "Yeah, but what is it?" he insisted.

Looking slightly annoyed, like a school master having to deal with a particularly unruly child, Kaspar didn't even look up from his book. "It's a potion for removing magic and magical abilities from a person," he explained with no more concern or emotion as though he would at mentioning the weather.

Hansel felt as though he had been gut punched and he was left speechless as his brain tried to make sense of what Kaspar had just divulged. "Removes magic?"

"Yes."

Hansel stared blankly at Kapsar. Surely he had heard wrong. "So if someone takes it, then they wouldn't have magical abilities anymore?"

"Yes," confirmed Kaspar in a voice that failed to capture the revelation and betrayal Hansel was feeling at those words.

"So I could just take that and all of this would go away?" The bite to Hansel's voice barely held back the rage that was beginning to burn. It was confusing. Part of him remembered not wanting any part of this and it flared with hatred for a man that he had never real trusted. Another part craved to continue what he was doing, to pursue it at all costs and thus was thankful an easy way out wasn't possible. "Then why are we just starring at it?"

"It comes with grave consequences." The warning was clear as was Kaspar's desire to not argue the point.

"Such as?" pressed Hansel. Salvation was mere steps away and he needed to grab it with both hands before the fog of bliss removed all common sense within him.

"Far reaching consequences." With a skeptical look from the witch hunter, Kaspar asked, "Is the threat of grave consequences not enough? Surely you're not that weak?"

Hansel countered, "You're trying to goad me into something."

"Perhaps," he offered with a shrug. "You must have some inner strength, after all, you hunt witches."

"No. I protect…" The name was on the tip of his tongue but wouldn't come to him. The ghost remained elusive.

"Gretel," supplied Kaspar, noticing Hansel's pause.

" _Gretel_. No, I protect _Gretel._ Hunting witches is more her thing." The name was so familiar, he couldn't believe he had forgotten it. His sister was the reason he did everything, his one purpose in life and a couple of spells had clouded that. Pushed her out and taken her place and his devotion. He was drowning in a pit of tar and some broken and twisted part of him was alright with it.

"I think lying doesn't become you."

"She's into helping the helpless. If it was up to me, I'd say fuck them all. The only good witch is a dead witch."

"Undoubtedly. Taking what appears to be the easy way out is beneath you, otherwise you wouldn't have come this far. Trust me, this way may seem hard but it's far better than what will happen if show weakness and seal that deal with the devil," cautioned Kaspar.

"Because that isn't what I've done so far," retorted Hansel, pushing his chair back harshly before storming out of the room. The cabin door slammed shut in his wake as he headed beyond the tamed grounds of Kaspar's homestead for the wilds of the nearby forest. He moved with determination and speed, letting his anger push him further away from the house.

He needed space, a calm place to think that wasn't going to offer the temptation of anything Kaspar had to offer. His head was spinning. Recognizing the gentle babbling brook as the furthest the hunter could safely go without forsaking the safety of Kaspar's magical boarders, Hansel flopped down in the tender moss. Crawling on his hands and knees towards the stream, he plunged his face into its chilly waters. The shock of the coldness cleared his head a little and thinned the fog that had been plaguing him.

He came up coughing and sputtering, water running in rivets down his face. Wiping the water from his eyes, he caught sight of his wrist and his heart stopped. Breath seized in his lungs and for a moment it seemed like his body had forgot how to function. Disbelief drove his other hand to pull at his sleeve, yanking it as far back as the fabric would accommodate. His fingers raked over the skin, desperately trying to remove what he saw, to prove it was a mistake, a smudge of dirt, not vine like black lines curling up his arm exposing his dirty secret to the world.

He plunged his wrist into the water, desperate to wash away what he knew deep down in the very pit of his being was the permanent and irrefutable evidence of the rotting of his soul. There was no denying it and no hiding it now, he had let himself fall. Shame washed over him as he stared down at the mark, deep and dark against his pale skin. As far as the usual witch disfigurement went, it was rather beautiful, not the distorted disfigurement associated with those the hunted. It was still hideous in what it represented and Hansel had done it to himself.

He couldn't put the blame on his upbringing, abandonment or the inherited stain left upon him by his mother's lineage. He had brought this upon himself the moment he traded the cold metal of a bullet for hope at managing this. While the mark and subsequence fallout was his alone to bear, he knew Gretel would try and take responsibility for it or at the very least, try to talk him out of any solution he would devise for it. Hastily he ripped off a piece of fabric from his vest and wrapped it around his wrist concealing the evidence from the world but not his soul.

Hansel hated magic, it had destroyed their lives, it was a plague, a curse and yet for some reason, it only took one push from Kaspar for him to open up and embrace the uses of it. He cursed his weakness for giving in so easily but he was damned if he did and damned if he didn't.

It wasn't that long ago that he was willing to let the Lamiae finish what they started. Their mother who had abandoned them, even if she had her reasons, had left her stain upon Hansel, and though he would gladly bear its mark if it meant Gretel wouldn't have to. The world said male witches weren't meant to live and he was happy to oblige, for it would spare him the path he know found himself on. Now he had a taste for the very thing he hated and it was hard to let go.

Hansel knew what he had to do. He'd let himself be blinded to the dangers, to everything that was truly important. Kaspar hadn't lied to his face, but the omission of facts had had the same impact, allowing Hansel to get lost in a world he had initially wanted no part of. Now Gretel was out there and Hansel didn't know if she was in trouble or not. Time had gotten away from him, clouded in the exhilarating rush that pushed everything real out of his mind.

He needed to find her, but beyond the magical barrier lay the Lamiae, a foe he knew he couldn't beat with either witchcraft or his good old fashioned witch hunting skill. The only chance he had was evasion, but that was impossible with an enemy whose sole purpose was to both litteraly and ifuratively sniff someone like him out.

There was also another problem, one so terrifying Hansel didn't want to admit it to himself. He felt great when he and Kaspar were testing and pushing his limits or even when he indulged in magic for his own benefit, but when he stopped, the need, the craving took over. It left him almost as bad as the moments he missed a dose of his medication. Even the few moments he was taking for himself now, he could feel it, the more he wanted to go crawling back and beg Kaspar to teach him something new, something that required a greater use of his abilities.

Hansel made up his mind. His sister was more important, consequences be damned, whatever they were.


	16. Chapter 16

Hansel waited for the cover of darkness to perpetrate the crime. Already his body was beginning to protest his complete lack of magical use. The headache that always lingered threateningly in the background had descended in full force, causing the world to wobble in its almost too brightness, despite the dim of the hour. It felt like he should have been recovering from the greatest night of drinking in his life or the worst tangling with a witch in recent memory. The contrast between the aching desperate need and blissful intoxicating numbness was almost enough to make him reconsider what he was about to do.

Magic may have a hold on him, but he could control it enough not to slip completely under, couldn't he? Hansel had seen the book containing the spells to erect magical barriers, he could take it, run away to the middle of nowhere and set his own place up to practice as freely as he liked. He could indulge, and being away from anything and anyone would prevent him from falling off the magical cliff into human sacrifice and hunting children. It would be so easy to give in, to finally stop fighting what was inevitably in his nature.

Hansel placed his hand against the wall to brace himself as a wave of nausea rolled over him. Whether it was a result of his pathetic and disturbing train of thought or the withdrawal of magic that seemed to relentlessly claw and scratch at him, making his skin itch and pull, he didn't know.

His eye caught the smooth and shiny surface of the mirror on the wall. Through the cracks and dirt caked on its surface from years of neglect he managed to make out the haunting image taking up real-estate in its surface. He realized he no longer recognized the man in the mirror. The sad despondent soul staring back at him couldn't possibly be his.

Swallowing back the bile, he shakily pushed off the wall and slowly put one foot in front of the other, careful to avoid the loose and squeaky floor boards that would shout out his secret to the world. It wasn't long before he found himself standing in front of the cabinet, doors pried open to reveal the contents within.

Of all the bottles and vials clogging the shelves the sole onyx one stood out from the others. Its metallic nature caught the shafts of moonlight that dared to cut through the night. The sparkle of the jewels wrapped delicately around the bottle neck, were mesmerizing in their beauty and rarity. If not for the potential contents, Hansel could believe it was something that should adorn the shelves of royalty. Just holding it his hand felt like a violation against its beauty. The rough hands of a tramp seemed unworthy to hold it, let alone steal the contents from within, but still the young hunter pulled the wax sealed cork out with a pop.

He raised the bottle to his lips and paused, the lip of the bottle hovering dangerously close to his mouth. His certainty wavered as Kaspar's words echoed through his memory. _"It comes with grave consequences."_

Hansel and Gretel had stood in the presence of many impressive foes and still beat the odds. They had tangled with the harbingers of hell and triumphed over all their magic, tricks and curses. How horrible could the consequences be to saving himself from such a dark fate? He knew the consequences if he didn't take it and even though he was well versed in hard to imagine things, he couldn't conjure anything that would be worse than not being able to save his sister.

Taking a deep breath, Hansel tipped the bottle forward and swallowed the contents in one gulp. It was cold and smooth like swallowing a chip of ice. He stood there for a moment, waiting for some sign that the potion had worked. Nothing. He didn't know what he was expecting, what sign there could possibly be for destroying something so vile. There was a fleeting moment of panic, what if it hadn't worked, what if it was just the product of old wives' tales that turned into legend?

The question was quickly answered as a wave of molten agony exploded from his center coating every nerve and muscle in his body. His legs buckled and he collapsed on the floor gasping for breath with lungs that refused to endure the pain. It was like being burned alive from the inside out, the irony which wouldn't have been lost on Hansel if he could focus on anything other than the pain. His limbs flailed uselessly in a desperate effort to find relief. Hansel might have been screaming but he wasn't sure, it was hard to hear anything over the pound of his heart.

Something touched his shoulder, wrapping around his arm to turn him over onto this back. His natural instinct was to fight but he just didn't have it in him to mount any resistance. Hansel pried his eyes open to see Kaspar leaning over him, lips moving in a pattern that should mean something, but the hunter couldn't put it together.

If he thought the pressure of his mystical abilities expanding and bursting to be released upon the world was painful, he had been sorely mistaken. Hansel's vision began to grey around the edges promising merciful death; he would take it greedily, with both hands if it meant an end to the agony. Just when he was sure the he reached his breaking point, that he couldn't take anymore, the haunting darkness that had been lurking at the edge of his vision melted into an electric purple that permeated everything, growing brighter and brighter until he had to shut his eyes against the light.

The burning sensation slowly pulled back from his extremities, coiling in a tight ball in his center and just like a bubble that floated too high, it burst. Hansel cracked his eyelids open just in time to see a purple wave of light emanate from within him and spread out like a ripple in a pond. He laid there for a moment watching the as the ripple moved outwards in all directions, unopposed by anything in its path but leaving everything undisturbed. It continued to move out past the wall of the home where the hunter lost a direct line of sight with it but the eerie glow from outside the window proved the ripple wasn't going to stop.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" shouted Kaspar.

Hansel had no words, he couldn't even move his tongue if he did conjure anything to say. The warning about consequences was well deserved, but it was over now and as long as it worked, that he didn't now have some vague impression of what it felt to be either burned alive or have one's flesh flayed from their bones for no reason, then he was fine with what transpired.

"You'll regret this. Those you care about will regret what you've done here," raged Kaspar, standing up abruptly and storming out of the room, leaving Hansel a quivering mess on the floor.

Hansel pulled himself into a tight ball, trying to protect himself against the now phantom pain that still lingered. His mind raced with what ifs. Kaspar seemed to believe it had worked and if what Hansel had witnessed was any indication, then it had to have worked, but what if he hadn't purged the curse from his blood? He needed to know but the effort to try any sort of magical display seemed beyond him at the moment.

His tongue darted over his horribly chapped lips as he tried to find enough spit to form words. He fought to pull in sufficient breath and mumbled the first thing that came to mind. His voice was practically no existent and he prayed it would still count. When the room remained unnervingly dark and no candles burst to life, Hansel cautiously held onto hope.

It could have been a fluke, too weak to perform any unholy feats witchcraft. Hansel's fingers began to claw at the makeshift wrap he had tied around his wrist to his mark. He fumbled, but slowly his fingers began to follow his direction. Lifting the frayed edge of the wrap, he exposed a small snippet of his wrist's pale skin and his heart sunk. The black vines still curled and twisted around wrist, as bright as it had ever been.

Dishearten, the hunter whispered every spell he had committed to memory; one after another, then repeating them all again and again. As the first rays of sunlight found their way through the cracks and glass, Hansel realized none of the spells had worked. Nothing had happened. He was free, regardless of the mark that marred his skin.


	17. Chapter 17

The house was quiet and empty as Hansel pried himself off the floor. He tumbled over as he tried to get his uncooperative legs underneath himself. After several failed attempts he managed to pull himself up with the aid of the nearby table. Clutching the worn wood edge, the world tilted and swirled trying to defy the death grip the hunter had on the table. With the memory of the agony that burned itself into him a fading memory, Hansel felt remarkably better. The all encompassing need was gone.

With determination he strode out of the room to gather what few belongings he had with him; he had a sister to track down. There was no sign of Kaspar anywhere and Hansel had no clue as to where he stormed off to, but it didn't matter. There was nothing he could offer the man now and nothing he required of his odd host anymore. Kaspar's absence tickled the back of the hunter's mind as something that should garner more thought but Gretel already had a head start on him.

He hastily shoved his change of clothes and spare ammunition in his sack. He pilfered a blanket out of the wardrobe, and while theft wasn't the sibling's first choice for acquisition, Hansel's current situation left little recourse if he wanted to survive the elements. That led to a stop in the kitchen as well. Hansel wasn't greedy, taking a small loaf of bread and a chicken leg to not diminish Kaspar's supply. He wasn't a fan of the man or his methods, but Kaspar had put him up and in a strange and unique way, helped the hunter.

Tying the top of his sack closed, Hansel's eyes drifted to the door to Kaspar's study. So much had happened within those walls, the small room was practically bursting with memories, most of which Hansel would give anything to forget. Still the hunter was the consummate student and wasn't going to leave an advantage lying around.

As a small boy, Hansel had attended school and for the most part the only thing he remembered about the experience was being abruptly pulled out of the small one room school house to take his studies at home. He had protested the action, his mother's strong grip firmly around his wrist dragging him from the school house and the only other children beside Gretel that he had ever known. Their mother had taken up the sibling's lessons making time for them between their chores. Any mention of the siblings' removal from the nearby town's school house was done with hushed whispers that ended with remorseful eyes falling on Hansel. Gretel had flourished under their mother's tutelage often reinforcing the lesson for Hansel at night long after their parents had tucked them into bed. While he was slow to pick things up, the important life lesson that had been thrust upon him, always stuck.

Wrapping several bottles tightly in any rag he could find, Hansel stuffed them deep into his sac. No longer needing anything the small cottage on the mountain top could offer, he set on his lonely journey back down towards Gretel's last know whereabouts.

* * *

The early morning twilight bled the soft purples of night with the beginning rays of morning; promising another day of life to the rustic colored leaves that had curled and huddled in anticipation of their coming wintery demise. The village, if it was even big enough to qualify for that small title, was as sleepy as the vast tracks of farm land that lay fallow. The tiny community nestled in the shadow of the mountain looked to have everything required to support the inhabitants without the constant bustle of well traveled trade routes. Hansel pulled his jacket collar higher to ward off the early chill of impending winter as he traipsed across the fields; the billowing chimney's of the small collection of cottages his guiding star. The only souls brave enough to be outside with Hansel were the cows huddled together in fields.

The sweet smell of baked goods drifted down the worn path that was passing for village's main road. Believing it a good a place as any to start, Hansel pushed open the weathered wooden door to the only building displaying sellable wears in the windows.

"Morning to you," chirped a young girl, no more than twelve years of age, carrying a tray of fresh rolls over to a basket sitting on the counter.

"Felizitas!" ordered a large man with a blood stained apron, emerging from the back. "Go help your mother with the butter."

The girl dipped her head giving Hansel an apologetic look before acknowledging the man. "Right away father," she mumbled before gracefully fluttering out of the room.

The father, large butcher knife in hand, waddled behind the counter depositing the knife with a large thud as it sank into the chopping block. Never taking his eyes off of Hansel, he haphazardly wiped the evidence of his morning's work onto a discarded rag. "What can I do for you stranger?" barked the man.

There was tension in the air as the man scrutinized every inch of Hansel. "I'm looking for someone, maybe you could help me," started the hunter.

"We don't need any more trouble around here," interrupted the man, folding his arms defiantly across his chest.

"Any more?" asked Hansel. "What trouble was there to start with?"

"The kind we don't need strangers sticking their noses in, now leave!" The order was emphasized with a large meaty finger pointing towards the door.

"Please, I'm looking for my sister Gretel and if there was trouble, I'm sure she went out of her way to get involved," countered Hansel, raising his hands in a nonthreatening gesture.

"No! Turn around and leave," ordered the man, hand wrapping around the handle of the butcher knife to pry it from the block.

Hansel began to take a step back. Normally common villagers weren't a threat but this guy was a human sized Edward and the hunter wasn't exactly at his best.

"You're Hansel." Felizitas poked her head from around the corner. "Gretel said you would come."

The large butcher stopped in front of the counter, keeping himself closer to the stranger in their midst. "Felizitas, go back outside with your mother."

"But father, he can help Gretel. She said he would help," pleaded the young girl.

"I have to find my sister. Tell me what happened." Hansel tried to keep the frustration out of his voice and invoke a tone of helpless need that might garner him the kindness of strangers.

The girl looked desperately at her father. " _Please._ If they can really help Verena, shouldn't we let them?" Tears threatened to spill down her pale cheeks.

The butcher rolled the knife handle in his huge palm, shifting its weight back and forth. His gaze flicked between the young girl and back to Hansel several times before he slammed the knife back in the block with a huff. He left the small shop without a word but the glare he shot Hansel said more than words ever could. It was quite possibly the scariest threat Hansel had ever received.

Not wanting to squander his opportunity, Hansel asked, "Gretel was here?"

"Yes," assured Felizitas. "She came to our village almost two weeks ago."

"Two weeks?" Hansel rolled the words around his mouth trying to make them seem real. Surely he had miss heard; Gretel had just left, hadn't she.

Felizitas nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, that right. Two weeks ago just before the storm."

* * *

Gretel let out a weary sigh as the never ending wall of forest and rock finally gave way to the flat farmland surrounding the quaint village. She was exhausted after the long day's journey and looking forward to getting a good night's sleep. Hopefully someone would be able to provide her with a room for the night before loading up the wagon in the morning. Just thinking about the uphill half of her journey was exhausting.

Villagers offered her half glances as she got closer to the buildings but no one seemed concerned enough to stop what they were doing. She headed to the building that seemed the focal point of the comings and goings in the town, tying the mule o the hitching post out front. The aroma of a hearty stew danced around the large room that seemed to double as both the general store and the tavern.

"Can I get you anything?" chirped a bubbly little girl from behind the counter.

Gretel offered a warm smile in return. "Yes, I'm looking to procure some supplies." She slid the list Kaspar had written out towards the young girl who nodded as she read each of the items.

The girl's smile vanished as she reached the bottom of the list. "Just a moment." She excused herself before darting towards the back room.

Gretel tried to keep her uneasiness in check. Kaspar had claimed to have done business here on a regular basis and she wouldn't receive any trouble with any of the villagers. For first appearances they seemed like a group of quiet townsfolk, certainly nothing she wouldn't be able to handle if push came to shove. Gretel had to reevaluate her last thought as an impressively larger man came towards the counter, supply list in his hefty mitt.

"This is your list?" grumbled the large man.

Gretel licked her lip, suddenly feeling very alone. "It is," she said firmly. "Kaspar said you sell to him, unfortunately he wasn't able to come himself." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of folded currency notes.

The large man looked Gretel up and down and then back to the worn stack of money on the counter. "He sent you?"

"Yes."

Pocketing the money, he gestured to the young girl from earlier and another little girl that had joined the first. "Felizitas and Verena will show you where everything is in the morning but you'll have to load it all yourself."

"That's fine," answered Gretel firmly, leaving no room for any notion that she wasn't up to the task. "Is there a room available for tonight?" she added, pulling out another note and displaying it tightly in her hand.

"Felizitas, find our guest a place to stay," commanded the large man, leaving the two girls alone with Gretel.

"Yes father," responded Felizitas. "Would you like a bowl of stew before we take you up to the loft?" she asked Gretel.

* * *

Gretel pulled the last rope hard to remove any slack before tying it securely to the cart. Leaning back against the load she let out a deep sigh. Even with the two young girls helping her as best they could, the large sacks and barrels still took a fair bit of effort load. She had forgotten just how much work some things were since they had Edward doing all the heavy lifting for the hunters.

"You should really wait," whispered Verena, shyly scuffing her shoe in the dirt laden hay. "Storm's coming in. It's going to be a bad one."

Gretel turned to look out the open door of the barn. The sun was still shining, doing its best to warm the earth but grey clouds were hanging threateningly in the distance. There was a chance it could change direction or that she could even reach Kaspar's cottage before the worst of it reached the mountain.

"She's right you know," confirmed Felizitas. "You should give some consideration to staying to staying the night. Kaspar says the trails get quite dangerous when the weather gets bad."

"You know Kaspar?" The thought of Kaspar interacting with anyone, let alone a child, in a manner in which they would speak his name fondly, was hard to comprehend.

"He gets all of his supplies here, in exchange he does wonderful things for the village."

Gretel's next question died on her tongue as the raised voices in the makeshift town square drifted towards the barn. Slinking towards the barn door, she peered around the edge to inconspicuously observe what the commotion was about.

The villagers were gathered together on one side of the square while five figures stood on the opposite side. It wasn't the best angle to see or spot to listen from but there was no mistaking who had arrived in the town. The sunlight picked up the more purple hues in the Lamiae's skin unlike the moonlight which gave then a hauntingly silver tone. Four of them stood in a rigid square with the fifth one in the middle. It was the fifth that was addressing the villagers in an eloquent voice that was softer than any other Gretel had heard from the enemy before, even if it still carried their authoritative arrogance. It wasn't the only thing different about the apparent leader of the group. Her clothing had an autocratic flow unlike the tighter and more combat appropriate wardrobe of the other, and silver horns that curled up on her head to form a crown like crest.

"They're not supposed to be here," whispered Verena, clinging tightly to Gretel's leg.

The familiarity in which the children gazed upon the intruders gave Gretel pause. There was a wariness unlike the all out fear that usually happened when someone so young and innocent lay eyes upon evil incarnate. Even the adults demonstrated reservation more so than first time fear. Trying to play catch up, Gretel remained tucked away, straining to hear any clues she could.

"What do you want?" demanded the town blacksmith. "Our agreement forbids you from venturing here."

"Our deal?" hissed the crowned Lamiae. "It's only a deal if it's honored and we find you lacking. But fear not, I have conceived away for you to be useful once again." Her eyes narrowed dangerously on the children tucked into their parents' embrace within the crowd.

"You cannot have the children," protested the blacksmith.

"I can have whatever I desire," snapped the queen Lamiae. The men of the village tightened their grips on farm implements turned weapons, raising them in preparation. The queen raised no weapons only here voice. It started out as a hummed melody before turning into a song reminiscent of the most saintly choir.

It was unlike anything Gretel had ever heard, both in its beauty and its use. Spells had a certain rhythmic quality but they were never sung like a tender love song. It quickly became apparent the song packed the same punch as any well crafted spell. The villagers, misguidedly prepared to defend themselves against an evil that made Gretel tremble, were stiff like statues. Their expression conveyed a desperate need to move to protect the young girls the warrior Lamiae were plucking from their grasp, but none could move a muscle.

Gretel turned to the two girls in her company, kneeling down before the youngest and placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Stay here and stay out of sight."

"What are you going to do?" asked Verena.

"This is what my brother and I do. We save children from monsters." The odds weren't in her favor and Gretel lacked anything to fight such a formidable enemy but she couldn't stand by and do nothing. Her own family had been torn apart by the evils of the world; she couldn't stand by and watch it happen to anyone else.

"Where is he?" asked Verena.

"Hansel? He's coming, he'll be here to help, don't you worry. Now stay out of sight and everything will be alright," promised Gretel, transferring Verena's tight grip to her sister. Taking a deep breath to steel her nerves, Gretel stepped out from the barn.

The Lamiae stopped in their tracks, surprised at the sudden movement. The queen's eyes landed on Gretel and a feral smile put all over her sharp teeth on display. "What do we have here?" she snarled, her mystical song having no effect on the challenger.

"I'm not going to let you take these girls," countered Gretel, with all the fake bravado she could muster.

In a flash, the queen was standing in front of Gretel, her chest pressed against the hunter's forcing her to take a step back. "I've never encountered someone immune to my charms before," she cooed, words dripping with curiosity.

"It's pretty normal in my world," snapped Gretel, throwing a vicious right hook that firmly found its mark.

The queen's head snapped with the blow but quickly snapped back to look at the hunter. "We're going to have fun with you."

Before Gretel could land another blow, she felt something slam into her from behind knocking her to the ground. Soon all four of the warrior Lamiae were on top of her providing her with many opportunities to kick, bite and scratch but it wasn't enough to fend them off. The world faded to grey and to nothingness.

With Gretel slung limply over one Lamiae's shoulder and several children in hand, the warrior Lamiae disappeared into the coming storm. The queen looked on at her captive audience, pacing back and forth in front of them. "I think such _bravery_ should be rewarded, don't you?" The Lamiae placed her palms together moving them back and forth in a slow caress. A red ball appeared, fluid like water, splitting into two balls. They hovered over her palm before flying like a humming bird straight into two of the villagers, disappearing into their skin.

Verena's sudden scream pulled the queen's attention towards the barn. Before either girl could blink, the silver nightmare was standing before them with a blood curdling smile. "I think you're just what I'm looking for little one."


	18. Chapter 18

"The people she infected with those red orbs are going to die," informed Felizitas with a sincerity and conviction no one that young should know. "It's happened before, a long time ago. After a month they start to get very sick and then they just die. None of the healers could do anything about it."

Hansel didn't know anything about this new addition to the Lamiae's power arsenal, but he was aware of some of the truly despicable capabilities of spells. His line of work focused on the prevention of magical curses, rather than the remedy, but it still didn't make the helplessness abate.

"So can you save Verena? Can you help like Gretel said?"

This was why he let Gretel deal with the children. His brashness and non parental instincts were ill placed with such young people and he always seemed to fall victim to the wide hopeful eyes of young girls who needed to be saved. The words were leaving his lips before he could stop them. "I promise." It was absurd to make such a promise. He would do his damnedest to rescue the children and more importantly his sister, but given the foe, he wasn't sure it was an accomplishable task. "I will bring your sister back safely."

Felizitas face lit up with salvation and delight, unaware of the severity of the lie Hansel had just cast. "Thank you," she said, relief evident in her voice.

Hansel could imagine what the young girl was going through, watching her sister taken away into the unknown by the scariest of monsters. It was something Hansel had to endure a time or two before; it was a fear that haunted his nightmares. There was always some small, minuscule, inconceivable chance he could pull this off. And if he did fail, he wouldn't be alive to see that disappointment destroy the sunshine that just lit up her face. "I'm going to need a few things first."

* * *

It wasn't _his_ gun, but it felt familiar and safe all the same. Normally, Hansel would have been more prepared and stocked for whatever might be thrown his way, but the village had supplied him as best they could, more importantly, they gave him a rifle and ammunition.

The Lamiae had a large head start and an uncanny ability to hide their trail, but they weren't prepared for Hansel's unnerving attention to detail. There were just enough little clues that Hansel was pretty certain he was going the right way. It felt like old times again; the sweet smell of forest all around, a loaded weapon on his shoulder with a destination of certain death. For the misery it brought, there was nothing like the life he had, and going down swinging sure beat old a forgotten.

While it felt like the good old days, Hansel couldn't help but keep one eye over his shoulder. The last time he was out in the world, the Lamiae had been ruthlessly hunting him and Gretel, running them both ragged. It was difficult to shake the feeling that it wouldn't happen again, except it couldn't; the magic that allowed them to home in on Hansel like a blood hound on a fox, was gone. The tension and fear that had come with it remained, as did the desire to use.

The feeling of control and power that came with embracing his powers had been intoxicating and unlike anything he had experienced before. It would have had to have been to push his utter reluctance and hatred of witchcraft out of mind the way it had. Hansel still hated magic, more importantly, he hated what it had done to him but there was still some small sliver that craved to be a part of it again.

This test would be more than just getting Gretel back, this would be the moment he decided if he could rise above all of his short comings, both inherited and learned. This would be the moment that defined is he was stronger than his destiny or just another cog in the machine of life. As he made camp and put another day between him and what had transpired on the floor of Kaspar's cottage, he felt a little more sure footed.

* * *

Hansel's feet were already beginning to ache by the time the sun broke over the mountain. It was risky to start hunting at such a dark hour but sleep was too elusive to hold onto for long. The forest was wet with the morning mist and as silent as the dead; the morning chill as cool as the cold steel the hunter gripped tightly in his hands. His nerves were on high alert with the hairs on the back of his neck rising in anticipation.

His left hand fell from his rifle to the knife fastened to his belt. Years of experience had instilled the instinct to wait for the right moment to strike, to let the enemy make the first move. He was not disappointed. In a flash of silver and purple he felt one of the creatures move past him. As quickly as it appeared, it disappeared into the safety of the forest cover. The steady pitter-patter of the blood droplets falling from Hansel's blade were the only sign that the creature had even made an appearance.

Satisfaction forced a smile on his face. No longer on the defensive, he could see just what these foul beasts were made of. The betrayal of a snapping twig to his left pulled his attention and his rifle. He thrummed with familiar excitement as each shot rang out until the telltale screech of a bullet finding home. The wounded Lamiae wasn't going to go down quietly, spring out of the bushes, claws out and tearing through Hansel's flesh.

The tug of torn flesh across his back caused him to stagger back, his finger sliding off the trigger. His opponent was just as lightening fast as he remembered but without the bone weary exhaustion of running for his life, the task of taking her out didn't seem as impossible. The Lamiae sprang up, digging her fingers into his shoulders while wrapping her legs tight around his waist. The weight of the beast and the momentum in which she threw herself at him sent both of them tumbling to the ground. She bit and scratched like an angry wolverine, refusing to let go of the prey pinned beneath her.

Straining tense muscles, Hansel managed to twist, shifting the Lamiae underneath him. Now in the top position, he slammed his fist into her face repeatedly. The upper hand didn't last long as the pair began to tumble over one another, constantly changing who had the dominate position in an equally violent and bloody struggle. They finally came to a rest, Hansel's blade buried deep in the Lamiae's gut. He laid there, chest heaving under the weight of a body that would fight no more as warm blood crept along the cool metal and curled around his wrist. Though it was just his imagination, it burned as it soaked into the bandage hiding his mark from the world.

His victory didn't last long. As quick and as silent as the Lamiae were, their speed betrayed them as leaves whispered their movements. Hansel could hear he was surrounded long before he saw their formidable features. They stood there, in a loose circle surrounding him; heads cocked in confidence, like a cat deciding how best to eat a mouse.

"Well what do we have here?" demanded one of the Lamiae, her silver, crown like horns sparkling in the early morning light. She boldly stepped toward the hunter, mindless of the blood glistening blade clutched tightly in his hand.

Hansel stared back defiantly, blood in his smile. If he was going down, he was taking the bitch with him. He just had to wait for the opportune moment to strike.

The queen leaned in close, taking a deep breath and sucking in his scent. She followed the line of his neck down to his shoulder before pulling back. The disappointment was evident in her face; the prize had been lost. "What have you done?" she asked, already knowing what actions had transpired to rob her of the glory that would have been sucking Hansel dry.

Hansel's wrist twitched in anticipation and his muscles coiled in preparation to strike. The queen's hand clamped down hard on his wrist before he even raised the blade past his waist. His face contorted in the pain that his voice refused to acknowledge. Tighter she squeezed, never shifting her eyes from his, and then, she began to hum.

Hansel let his anger fester. First at the fact that such monsters roamed the earth, bringing misery to all those who lay eyes on them and then at the fact that she would waste his time with cheap parlor tricks that never worked on the siblings. Except, maybe things really had changed since drinking Kaspar's potion, because suddenly Hansel found himself unable to move. It was just like Felizitas had described, only to experience it first hand was terrifying. Hansel always had the ability to fight if he just dug down deep enough, there was always that last reserve he could pull from to fight for one more inch. He couldn't move at all, he was completely at her mercy and she would show none.

Slowly, one by one, the queen pulled back Hansel's fingers and relieved him of his knife. She tossed it to the side like a stray loose thread, formerly inconvenient but now a forgotten memory. She pressed her lips against his ear and in a sing song voice, whispered, "No more magic to protect you."

A sharp pain exploded in the back of his head before everything went black.


	19. Chapter 19

"Hansel."

Silence.

A little louder, "Hansel."

"Mmmmm." Hansel's head lolled to the side as the great debate to open his eyes waged in his head.

" _Hansel!"_ hissed Gretel, pulling her legs back as best she could in the small space of her confinement to kick the joining wall of their cages.

Hansel flinched, eyes snapping open as he tensed for the coming threat. Blearily he glanced around his tiny dark world framed with wooden bars chopping up his view. He paused and lingered on Gretel as her soft smile filled him with gentle warmth. Her hair was a mess, dirt and dried blood caking the soft lines of her face, but the light of her smile was hard to diminish. His hand drifted towards the confines of his cage, testing the materials that were locking him in.

As far as cages went, it was well crafted, the smooth bars unwilling to budge even an inch. They weren't going to be breaking through them with sheer strength and long gone were the days that they might be able to slip between the bars. Slowly, Hansel pulled himself into a sitting position, mindful of the low ceiling and very aware of every bruise and scratch he had earned on his journey to this place. "Just like old times," he sighed, fingers snaking their way past the bars to entwine with Gretel's.

She huffed a small laugh; the universe a little less scary now that the other half of her world was in sight. "At least you came. Better late than never I suppose." She gripped his hand tightly, the closest to a hug they were going to get at the moment. It had never crossed her mind that he wouldn't do everything on his power to come, even as the days drew on. If there was life in his body, Hansel would come and if he never showed, Gretel knew it wouldn't be of his choosing. Whatever fate befell her after that would be far more welcomed than a life without her brother. They only had each other in this world and one would never leave the other behind.

She studied him, tracing every line she knew so well and every new testament to the hell her brother had been through recently. There was a bone weary tiredness that had settled beneath his skin, tinged with a new shade of self-loathing that he was so quick to grab a hold of. Hansel protected her from the world as best he could, like he was making up for the shortcomings of their parents. If often caused him to do things he hated, things that blackened his soul so they wouldn't touch Gretel. She always found out, but out of respect for the sacrifices Hansel was so willing to make, she held her tongue. He was hiding something now.

"They took some of the girls from the village," Gretel reported, falling into the familiar role of business first and piecing Hansel together later.

"I heard. They cursed the villagers that tried to stop them, it was… effective." People died all the time, it was a fact of life. In their world, people died horribly; there was only so much they could do but sometimes it pierced the hard outer shells the siblings encased themselves in. Sometimes the misery of the world became too much and they could do nothing but feel for the people they were unable to protect.

They shared a moment of silence, each slotting the carnage into the box of 'cost of doing business' in their minds. "They're doing something to the girls. They're not eating them or using them for magic, rather they're doing magic on them." The words sent a shiver down her own spine as she thought about the peculiar behavior she had witnessed, locked away in her tiny cage. The glimpses she caught between the bars, and the screams that pierced the night, were the stuff her nightmares were founded on.

"There are others, other girls from different towns…" The ones taken from the village had been young, probably younger than she and Hansel had been when they happened upon the candy house of torment. She hadn't seen those children since waking up in her cell, the unfortunate souls she had laid eyes upon had been slightly older; the images forever seared into her brain. The older children wandered around in a daze, lead on a leash like farm animals to their slaughter by the Lamiae; obedient puppets waiting for their masters' bidding. The real horror were the patches of silver that marred the girls' skin, spread out like a rash or infection of a gangrenous wound. "I think they're changing the girls into Lamiae."

Black magic consumed witches, rotted them from the inside out, but it was a choice made by the user. The witch chose to walk down the dark path of the black arts, any and all side effects were just collateral damage, but these girls hadn't chosen this. It was being thrust upon them, changing them from the inside out until there were only the monsters the Lamiae created; children sentenced to a living death.

Gretel's voice filled with sincere determination. "We have to stop them Hansel."

Hansel looked around his cage nestled in the thick of the Lamiae nest. He didn't disagree with his sister's assessment but his first priority in their daunting situation was getting Gretel to safety. "How do you propose we do that?"

Gretel slid closer to Hansel, her voice dropping to a whisper, "They leave at night, most of them. They take the girls and they don't come back till dawn. The numbers will be more in our favor."

He tapped the wooden bar with his foot. "Doesn't matter if we have the numbers or not, if we can't get out of here."

"I've been thinking about that." She had been relieved of any weapons both actual and possible before she had woken up in her cage and hadn't been able to acquire anything useful in the days that followed. "I'm hoping you have something useful in your repertoire for a magical assist."

"Gretel…" The word hung in the air, a silent apology. It was a request for forgiveness, for being too weak to master his gifts, for not being strong enough to keep them when their value could produce their freedom.

She held his gaze, trying to navigate the stormy grey of his eyes to find the secrets buried within them. The sinking feeling that started in her gut spilled out onto the floor, threatening to steal the floor out from beneath her. She had left her most prized possession in the hand of a man she barely knew, knowing that it was Hansel's only chance to get his powers under control. Really looking at him now in the muted glow of torch light, he didn't look like a man that had a gift under control; he looked remorseful, like he had somehow personally failed her. Her heart started to pound as her brain tried to reconcile the facts as she knew them. Hansel was a danger to himself and those around him if his abilities were left unchecked. Kapsar had promised to help him with that, offering safety until Hansel demonstrated control yet here her brother was, looking anything but a master of his heritage.

"Hansel, what happened?" She was hesitant to ask, afraid of one more chip against them.

"Gretel, I tried… I…" The words got caught behind the lump in his throat as her fingers slipped from his to dance up his hand on their path to his shoulder when they stopped abruptly at the tattered remains of the cloth he had tied around his wrist. He desperately wanted to pull his hand back as she began to unwrap the fabric but she needed to see the monster he had become, even if he couldn't bear to see the disappointment in her eyes.

The cloth slipped off his wrist as easily as it went on, no longer strong enough to contain the lie Hansel was trying to perpetrate. For a moment he forgot how to breathe, his eyes cast down unable to watch disappoint over take his sister's smile.

Her hand hovered over the mark for a moment before swiping over the skin. Harder and harder she rubbed, trying to remove the stain but it refused to budge. "What did you do?" she demanded, fear and anger putting more of a bite in her words.

Before he could answer the door to his cage was forcibly removed and rough hands wrapped around him yanking him from his captivity. Gretel could only look on in horror as two warriors latched onto his arms holding him securely in place in front of their queen. The queen's head dipped in close to his neck as she took a long whiff of the exposed skin, switching to her sense of taste as her chin reached his jaw line. Her tongue slithered from his chin to his ear as she reassured herself of her earlier findings. Hansel struggled in the tight grip of his captors trying to put any sort of distance between him and the lead Lamiae, but their claws refused to allow him to move and inch.

"So it's not a trick," the queen hissed, her fingers seductively making their way from the top of his head to his chest. "I had been promised the feast of a lifetime and now I find you severely wanting. You're just another mongrel now, a deliciously handsome one, but useless to me none the less."

"My queen," interrupted a Lamiae walking into the room. She bowed her head in submission upon standing before her queen. Raising it, brought her features under the full scrutiny of the flickering torch, giving Hansel a very clear and up close encounter with what Gretel had been talking about. This wasn't a Lamiae standing before but a teenage girl, her skin a patchwork of silver, like the scales on a snake. Her hands were gnarled with the razor sharp claws of the Lamiae erupting from her fingers, while one eye was swollen and oozing as swirls of purple wormed their way through the white parts of her eye.

The queen snarled but didn't shift her piercing eyes off of the hunter. "Kaspar wishes to speak with you."

A twisted grin carved through the menacing marble of the queen's face as her eyes danced with delight. "All of my problems and disappointments in one place. Bring him and her," she ordered, turning to Gretel left forgotten in her cage. "I could use some entertainment this evening to make up for what has been denied to me."

The queen stalked out of the room, her warriors obediently following with the siblings firmly in their grasps.


	20. Chapter 20

"We had a deal!" raged Kaspar the second the queen came into view. The hall was carved out of stone, a representation of the Lamiae's sheer strength and resilients; a vast room of intimidation, not unlike the queen herself.

Her look was of disenchantment as she took the only seat in the large cavern. Settling upon her throne, Hansel and Gretel were forced to kneel off to the side, their guards maintaining their iron tight hold. "Yes we did," she replied coolly, "and you failed to deliver."

"We've never had a timeline before. I'll find you someone else," retorted Kaspar, ripples of panic fraying the edges of his words.

"I'm tired of waiting and this one has cost me a lot of resources, which brings me to why I had to replenish our numbers."

"You can take girls from anywhere, our agreement was you'd leave _my_ village alone. I'll find you someone else." Desperation was written on Kaspar's face, almost enough for Gretel to feel a tiny bit of sympathy towards the man if his betrayal wasn't becoming so apparent.

The queen leaned forward, placing extra emphasis on each word. "Your pet project was instrumental in lowering my numbers. I needed to replenish and _your_ little village was the closest one and just ripe for the picking."

"I've supplied your sisters with enough magical boys over the years, I've earned the safety of that village!" The corner of his eye twitched with anger and Hansel had to give credit for the balls Kapsar had to have to be so brazen in front of such a creature in her own territory. He was well seasoned in dealing with the weird and magical, and the Lamiae had given both him and his sister a good, hard run for their money.

Hansel couldn't say he was surprised by this turn of events; he considered Kaspar shifty to begin with and no one ever did anything for nothing. Generosity wasn't something he's encountered in his life of chasing impossible things, there were always strings. Still, it was hard to ignore the disappointment radiating off of Gretel. Despite the evils of the world, she still had faith that there was decency in the world. He made a mental note to extend Kaspar's beating to make up for any heartache Gretel was feeling as a result of the man's betrayal.

"Then let this be a lesson in the price of failure and motivation for future success. I suggest you make yourself useful and find me someone worthy or I'll lay waste to the entire village and dine on _you._ " Her teeth glistened with the sincerity of the threat and the Lamiae lining the room promised to succeed should the queen fail in that threat.

Kaspar shrunk back, adopting and more submissive stance. Everything he had worked so hard to protect was teetering on the edge. His own mother had conceded to council law and agreed to drown him at the tender age of five when he first presented his inherited abilities. There standing in the stream with her hands firmly pressed on his shoulders, she had a change of heart or rather a lapse in judgment. Told to run and never stop for fear of imminent death, he ran, ran until there nothing left and his small body collapsed from exhaustion at the base of the mountain. It seemed nature was going to finish what his mother couldn't as night set in and the wolves began to howl but an old farmer and his wife happened upon the weak boy. They cleaned him up and fed him in their village, the one place Kaspar would grow to call home and protect at all costs.

When the Lamiae finally caught up to him, sensing his magic from that far reaches of their territory, the villagers defended him. The old lady brought him up the mountain while the village distracted the Lamiae, and though it cost them dearly, and the life of the old lady's husband, she swore she didn't regret saving him. To ensure the future safety of all, the old woman sought out a local gypsy in search of something that could conceal the boy. She gave her life to get Kaspar to the gypsy woman who offered him a potion to remove all magic from his being, but at a price. The answer seemed obvious, but the more he thought about it, the more he couldn't let the sacrifices to protect him be in vain. Opting to keep his powers, he vowed to use them to protect the village and the people who had embraced him as one of their own. He had devoted his life to that promise and now it was threatening to be taken away, and all because he had a moment of weakness.

And yet, glancing at the hunters kneeling in forced submission, he didn't want to let go of what he tried to obtain. He had given so much of his life to protect the village, it was hard not to want either and companion or a replacement. The tenuous balance he had struck with the queen had seen him deliver any boys displaying magical powers that he could track down; strangers sacrificed for the innocent lives of the villagers. Kaspar wasn't a fool, he studied his craft until he was sure he could be considered a threat. Hansel had been the first in a long time that had the potential to take his place, his burden, allowing Kaspar to pursue a life, a happiness all his own.

Then there was Gretel, so willing to do anything to save her brother, a kindred spirit. She above all others could understand everything Kaspar had done. He had seen the way she looked at her brother, without judgment or disdain for what he was. Kaspar might protect the village, be treated like the protector he was, but there was always the underlying _not one of us, different, dangerous_ voice that whispered to him even if the people wouldn't actually form the words. Gretel could be his one chance to not be alone anymore. Perhaps she could grow accept him.

"What are you going to do with them?" he asked pointing towards the hunters. Their glares of contempt and hate were almost a physical thing beating down on him.

"What does it matter to you?" questioned the queen, her annoyance growing with each word.

"He's no longer of value to you. There is no magic there."

"He has cost us dearly and deprived me of something I wanted. My satisfaction will come from flaying the flesh from his bones. He will be a message to future chosen not to deny the Lamiae what is their right, their duty."

Gretel pulled against the hands holding her down. No one threatened her brother and got away with it. The lack of magic, was news to her and Hansel didn't seem to be in any hurry to deny the claim. No longer having his powers was as much of a solution as getting them under control, perhaps even better because the Lamiae would no longer have interest in him but she couldn't help the foreboding feeling welling in her gut that promised it wouldn't end there. The fact that Hansel wouldn't meet her gaze didn't ease her fears any.

"What about the girl? She's too old for your purposes and thus is of no use. I'd be willing to take her off your hands…"

"Would you now?" interrupted the queen, coming to stand in front of Kaspa; her sharp eyes scrutinizing ever inch. "How magnanimous of you."

Hansel knew Kaspar's intentions weren't pure, certainly not considering his blatant betrayal, but he wasn't fool enough to think he and Gretel stood a chance against a whole nest of Lamiae. Against Kaspar… Gretel could handle one man, even if he did practice the dark arts. "Let him take Gretel." His voice sounded small in such a large space but it commanded everyone's attention.

"Let him have Gretel and I'll give you anything you want," promised the hunter.

"No," hissed Gretel, struggling even harder to get free.

The queen rose from her throne and sauntered over to Hansel. Running one of her sharp claws down the side of his face she asked, "And what could you have that I could possibly want?"

"You want magical boys right?" Determination filled in the holes of confidence in his voice. The queen's sickening smile was answer enough. "I can find them for you. I know where they'll be."

The queen cocked her head in intrigue as she considered the hunter's words. Having two minions to aid her sisters in their hunting would increase their spoils and both seemed to have a weakness for people that were easy to snuff out. At the very least she could replace her current servant. If she could read the subtle signs of body language amongst humans then the key to controlling both men might just be one woman. Of course, there were other ways to ensure Hansel's compliance and unyielding fidelity "You amuse me hunter. You'll stay here, of course, and the little bitch can go with Kaspar." Her demeanor took on an even more threatening tone. "Where she'll stay until you prove you're going to be useful."

Gretel glared at Hansel, desperately trying to get her feelings on the subject through his thick, stubborn skull. If there was one thing they should have learned over the years, was they were better when they faced things together, never mind the insult that Gretel could be passed around as property to be 'looked after.' There was a special ass kicking in this for Hansel when they got out this situation.

Hansel bowed his head. He messed up so badly, he messed everything up. The hole he had plunged them all in was so deep, even the strongest ray of sunlight couldn't find its way to him now. His first mistake had been placing witches into two categories: alive = bad, dead = good. Then at the first test of loyalty, he'd shut Gretel out when she threatened to prove his beliefs wrong, when she wanted to embrace her birthright. He'd let Mina die, he'd hurt Ben. He was born a threat. Gretel blessed with the gifts of their mother left him cursed with them. He didn't even handle that well. He had so easily fallen prey to the trappings of the black arts and took the first easy out without thought for the consequences. It was time to man up and start making amends. "Agreed."

"Hansel, no!" protested Gretel as the Lamiae hauled her to her feet. She scrambled to find purchase against the ground, anything to break free or slow things down. She needed a moment, a moment to think, to find a weapon, anything to stop her being separated from her brother, who was so clearly hiding something from her.

Kaspar watched in fascination. He understood sacrifice, could sympathies with Hansel's position but it was something else to be the one he was handing his sister to. Desperate times and all that aside, Kaspar might have been the best of a series of lousy options but the hunter had still agreed to allow Gretel to go with him.

"Get her out of here," Hansel hissed, his heart breaking at the sight of Gretel struggling so hard to stay with a sinking ship. He tried not to resent Kaspar as he wrapped his hand around Gretel's arm, whispered in her ear and took the lead as he and the two Lamiae holding her escorted her out of the room. He let his eyes linger until the last sign of her disappeared out of sight. It was the right thing to do, not another mistake. She could take care of herself, and do that even better against only two Lamiae and Kaspar, who would probably be stupid enough to underestimate the strength that lay beneath her natural beauty.

Sauntering back to her throne, the queen retook her seat. "Bring him to me."

Hansel relaxed into their strong grip. There was no use in struggling; he was where he wanted to be. Each step forward, furthered his resolve. His mistakes started when he began to doubt who he was. Yes, he didn't truly understand who he was until Muriel exposed his family's secret, but deep down on some level, he knew.

He was almost within reach of her sickening claws when he twisted and jerked suddenly. It wasn't enough to free himself of his guards but enough to get a hand free, and really that all he needed. Continuing his momentum, he plucked the knife attached to one of the creature's belt, completing his turn by slicing off the hand still tightly wrapped around his other arm. The creature let out a sickening howl as she tumbled to the side, thrown off balance by the loss of the appendage that was still wrapped around Hansel. Knife dripping with blood, he didn't hesitate to drive it deep in the other guard's neck. The body fell heavily, pulling the blade from Hansel's grasp and tumbling to the ground with the dead.

The queen sprung into action bringing her claws down and tearing through the hunter's already shredded back. He stumbled, dropping to his knee. She moved into position to offer the final striking blow to remove a thorn in her side, when Hansel sprung up. Her forward momentum ceased and she looked at him for a long moment trying to determine what he had done.

Hansel stood there, chest heaving and heart pounding as he waited for the queen to put the picture together, for realization to dawn on her. He, the lowly mortal had run her through, the claws from the hand he pulled off his wrist carving out five perfect holes as the claws appeared on the other side.

"What have you done?" she snarled.

"I killed you without magic, bitch." He brought his foot up, pushing her off of her impalement to collapse boneless on the floor. There was a certain satisfaction in watching his tormentor twitch in agony. The tell tale sounds of the rest of the nest coming to avenge their fallen rang out, but he would take this moment, this small victory before it all went to hell.

"You think you've won anything?" she choked out around a mouthful of blood. "Another will rise up and take my place. Unlike you we serve a purpose. We protect the world from your kind's natural defects and megalomania. You'll pay for this."

"Probably. But you won't be around to see it."

A red orb appeared in the queen's hand, fluid like a ball of flame. It took a second to catch Hansel's eye and another to move from her hand to his body like a possessed firefly. "Neither will you."

He grunted as it hit him square in the chest, a warm feeling spreading over him like wax from a candle. It through him off balance, knocking him to his knees. Witch's magic never worked on them, it usually passed right through with no ill effects.

She smiled at the hunter's bewildered look with blood stained teeth. "No magic remember. No protection." As realization dawned on the man kneeling next to her, life left her body.


	21. Chapter 21

Gretel made her guards work for every step, pushing when they pulled and pulling when they tried to push. She could see right through Hansel's promise and knew she had precious moments to get back to her brother before he did something rash; something permanent.

"You know," offered Kaspar casually, falling behind the group, "I made a deal with the devil because the devil seemed to have all the tricks and the better hand. Then, one day there was a moment when I realized the mountain wasn't so insurmountable anymore but complacency made it easier to continue on with the status quo. Had your Queen not broken the tenuous terms of our agreement I would have continued abiding by our terms."

The two guards struggling with Gretel stopped to glance back at their ally; curiosity coloring their faces as they tried to decipher the drabble spewing from his lips. The element of surprise played against them, their lightning fast reflexes and sheer strength failing against the streaks of black smoke that sprung forth from Kaspar's hands. Striking forth like birds of prey with the sharpness of a blade, they shredded the Lamiae's necks open releasing geysers of blood to paint the walls.

Gretel staggered in her release, the oppressive grip of her captors going uselessly slack around her harms. She pulled a blade free from the corpse crumpled at her feet and whirled around. Kaspar hit the wall with a thud, her forearm pressing tightly against his throat while her other hand brandished the blade dangerously close to his exposed artery. "Give me a reason to not kill you where you stand for what you've done," she spat.

There was fire in Gretel's eyes that would have stole his breath if he wasn't finding it so difficult to breathe with her arm pressing painfully against him. He tried to choke out an answer, but nothing intelligible passed his lips.

The hunter wanted to press harder, to punish the man before her that had betrayed them so completely. Kaspar had not only played her for a fool but put the person who mattered most in harm's way. Every fiber of her being screamed for vengeance for a brother she would protect at all costs, not unlike the man before her had done for the people and place he held dear. She eased some of the pressure from her arm. "Make your words convincing or they will be your last."

His shoulders rose as he sucked in a deep breath. "You'll never get your brother out of here without my help," he croaked.

"I don't need _your_ help," Gretel snarled, defiant.

"I think you do."

She hated to admit it, but her odds were better with someone watching her back. "One wrong move, and it will be your last," she warned, stepping away from the wall. She tipped her head back the way they had come, willing to take Kaspar's help at face value but unwilling to turn her back on him. "After you."

He pried himself off the wall, dust and dirt shaking loose as he began to walk. He took the lead without protest, able to ask for no more than the small leniency he'd been granted. Together they moved through the corridor, Gretel unleashing untamed fury aided by Kaspar's formerly tamed magic. The formidable might of the Lamiae was no match for a thoroughly pissed off sister on a mission; there was nothing left to lose and only one goal: get to Hansel.

An influx of soldiers flooded the halls with a horrible cry only to meet a bloody and horrible end. Cuts and hard hits did nothing to deter Gretel, proceeding forward as though nothing had touched her.

Kaspar stopped short as he entered the Queen's cavern; the scene not quite what he had predicted. The surrealness of watching Hansel impale the Queen with a hand of one of her own warriors filled him with both hope and dread. The one that had saw fit to hurt the people Kaspar had tried to protect was punished, but the rest of the nest would rise up to destroy the threat to their clan. His shock was broken as the Queen gave one last parting gift to Hansel, sealing the hunter's fate as well.

Gretel, a few moments behind didn't hesitate, running towards the crumpled heap of a brother. Her knees hit the ground hard as her frantic hands ditched her weapon and sought purchase to wrap her brother in her arms. "Hansel! Hansel, look at me." Blood slicked her hands as she pulled him closer; the open slashes on his back still seeping. Her voice trembled as she mumbled, "You're okay, you're okay."

Hansel opened his eyes. "Gretel." He clung to her tightly, reveling in her presence. His heart slowly returned to a normal rhythm as his mind reconciled what he had seen and heard in the village after the Queen had unleashed her powers on the people there and what the Queen had imparted to him. He spent his life hating magic and had finally found a way to purge it from his life only to be left weak and vulnerable in a new way.

"Are you alright?" she asked, searching every inch of Hansel for anything life threatening. The gashes and minor wounds could wait until they were out of the caves but first she needed to know if they could even move him.

Hansel fought back the rolling nausea. Denial was rearing its ugly head as he wracked his brain for anyway to dismiss the red orb as something benign, a trick of the light and nothing more. Witches' magic didn't work on them, not because they were special but because of a spell their mother had cast to protect Gretel and he had gone and purge himself of all magic, never thinking of the one good thing magic had given him. The relief in Gretel's eyes, held Hansel's tongue firmly in place.

"They'll rally around a new leader and come to finish us off. We should put as much distance between us and those that remain as we can," offered Kaspar, not wanting to press their luck any further than they had to. They may have inflicted damage to the clan but a poked bear was just fired up to get into a real fight.

"We have to Hansel," soothed Gretel as she pulled him to his feet. He let out a small groan as the movement pulled uncomfortably at his back, leaning a little too heavily on his sister. It was awkward but the siblings managed to find a rhythm that Hansel could manage as they followed Kaspar back through the winding corridors to freedom.

Gretel felt a surge of satisfaction as she took in her handiwork of death and destruction strewn along their path. The Lamiae had put them through hell when they already had their hands full with magic and its collateral damage. Now, that those who thought they could lay a hand on her brother and get away with it were in pieces on the floor, she could finally put a genuine smile on her face. Things were going to be alright now.

* * *

"Ouch," hissed Hansel, squirming on the chair.

"Don't be such a baby," chastised Gretel, "and hold still." She plunged the cloth back into the bowl of water to rinse it before continuing to clean Hansel's wounds; keeping one eye on Kaspar as he moved around the small cottage collecting books and vials. The witch was a flutter of activity to Gretel's new found calm.

"Are you almost done?" protested Hansel, having his fill of being poked and prodded. He wanted to lay down and sleep for a week; a bone weary tiredness relentlessly pulling at him. He told himself it was the usual exhaustion from a fight and nothing more, but he knew what was coming; he'd seen the village.

"I could get done faster if you'd hold still," scolded his sister; it was playful, filled more with relief that Hansel was alive and more or less unscathed, than irritation at an uncooperative patient. "I need to grab some more bandages. _Stay_ still."

Hansel could feel Kaspar's eyes on him the second Gretel left the room. "Are you going to tell her?" he demanded.

Hansel opted to play dumb, it was the best way to figure out what lie Kaspar was referring to. He didn't mean to lie to Gretel and truthfully, they weren't outright lies, simply lies of omission. He couldn't bear the look of disappointment that would color her face if he told her about his weakness with magic or just what lengths he had gone to to purge himself of it. Then there was the magic used against him by the queen. How was he going to tell her that he wasn't going to walk away from this one? "Tell her what?"

"I saw what happened back in the cave."

"Is there a cure?" the hunter asked, knowing deep down that his fate was sealed.

"None that I know of. For all those I've seen inflicted, I've never seen anyone survive."

The last little piece of hope he'd been holding onto shattered. He hadn't been aware of how badly he needed Kaspar to tell him it was going to be alright until he was told it wasn't. All he had left was denial. "Well, we don't know if it worked so there's no point in worrying Gretel." His voice shook a little and by the look on Kaspar's face, the other man didn't buy it either.

"It takes about a month, if that's any consolation." There was almost a hint of sympathy from Kaspar and Hansel snorted with disinterest. "It starts like many other sicknesses. Tiredness, loss of appetite, pain, escalating to vomiting blood, feeling of being cold and delirium."

"Sounds like fun," the hunter spat bitterly. He'd seen his fair share of illness and curses; he could imagine all too well what lay ahead.

"Do you even know how to have fun?" teased Gretel returning with an armful of bandages. She raised his arms to make wrapping his back easier and made a mental note to force him to take it a bit easier for the next couple of days. "What are we going to do about the Lamiae?"

"They won't be after you brother anymore and those that are left will disappear until they can replenish their numbers. Besides, they won't be after you, I'm a more desirable target should they return," answered Kaspar.

Gretel turned to protest; the only way to be sure was to see them all dead herself and not leave it to chance in the hands of another, especially one that had started their friendship with the intent of betraying them. Hansel grabbed her wrist. "Let's just go home Gretel."

The request shocked Gretel. Hansel was never one to run from a fight, even to save himself and they certainly didn't have any place they called _home_. "Home?"

"You should listen to your brother," interrupted Kaspar.

Hansel shook his head. "Home, or go find Ben and Edward, anywhere but here."

"Alright," she agreed, unsure what to make of the sheer oddness of his request. "We'll catch up with Edward and Ben. Are you alright?" There was something about her brother, something different that she couldn't place.

Hansel sucked in a deep breath, committing to the lie. "I'm fine, just really want to get out of this place."

* * *

Rain clouds threatened to spill as the siblings made their last preparation for their journey to meet up with the other half of their group. Gretel was outside grabbing a few apple from the tree outside as Hansel crossed the threshold of Kaspar's home. From behind Kaspar asked, "Are you ever going to tell her?"

"No. She'll put all her energy into trying to find a cure and I'd rather not waste my last days on something foolish. We'll meet up with our friends and keep doing what we do until I can't do it anymore then Gretel will have Edward and Ben to continue on with. No use making her miserable with something that can't be changed." He walked away before getting a reply. Other people no longer mattered. He had a small amount of time to reunite their weird makeshift family and make sure Gretel was going to be taken care of. That was the only thing that mattered now.

The end.

* * *

**Epilogue**

The forest was dark and silent. The ruins of the house, the last testament to the inviting greatness that had been built there, were as forgotten as the former occupant. What was now laid to waste after a brief surge of life had brought battle to its front door had stood quietly for years and planed to continue that ominous shadow over the forest. A bright purple wave flooded the forest; light spreading everywhere in a ripple effect that quickly moved past the house, continuing on its journey to parts unknown.

The signs of age and weather slowly pulled themselves back from the wood and candy that had made up the home. The stove, long gone cold burst to life with a start, the black flame springing forth. It began to die as a pitiful moan echoed out of the stove. Carefully a gnarled hand stretched out, fumbling for purchase. Gradually the being began to pull itself out of the fire, the flames giving birth to a life it had formerly snuffed out.

The candy looked around the sad state of her home, a place that had been a triumphant of her ingenuity in the hunt for children. She would restore its greatness, and the strength of her powers and then she was going to hunt down the bastard children that had dared defy her. The witch was back and going to eat those horrible brats if it was the last thing she did. Hansel and Gretel were going to die.


End file.
